


I've Missed the Real You...

by Paul_and_Emma_Deserve_better



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Abuse, Angst, F/M, Giving Emma a Gf, Hanging, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kidnapping, Like, Lots, Maybe - Freeform, OF, Past Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Torture, Vomiting, and, but don't get too attached, but like she doesn't die, hivemind - Freeform, injures, like you might cry, lots of injuries, meat hook, really really bad angst that hurts a lot, shock collar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 21,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paul_and_Emma_Deserve_better/pseuds/Paul_and_Emma_Deserve_better
Summary: Paul Matthews and Emma Matthews tried their best to make it work after the Hatchetfield Disaster. Paul wanted something different than Emma and the hive just wasn't going to let her get away...(based off of https://deathdroppingmywaythroughhell.tumblr.com/post/184373546327/tw-kidnapping-torture-ptsd-depression-murder )





	1. Guess who's right down the block? Guess who's climbing the stairs? Guess who's picking your lock!?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All the wonderful and amazing people who are just as fucked up as I am on the TGWDLM Amino](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+wonderful+and+amazing+people+who+are+just+as+fucked+up+as+I+am+on+the+TGWDLM+Amino).



> https://deathdroppingmywaythroughhell.tumblr.com/post/184373546327/tw-kidnapping-torture-ptsd-depression-murder  
> Read it, you'll understand the story a lot better.

[R E A D T H I S](https://deathdroppingmywaythroughhell.tumblr.com/)

 

Emma entered the building attempting not to steer herself into a wall again. She was still getting used to the whole ‘wheelchair’ thing. Work as a waitress was hard enough, but it becomes even harder when you keep on bumping into people's tables by accident. Colorado was great so far, Paul had been out of her life for a couple of months and while she might have thought that she had seen him around, she knew it wasn’t him. Emma attempted to unlock the door to her apartment, but it appeared to already be unlocked. Emma carefully wheeled herself in glancing from side to side as she shut the door behind her. She knew better than to ask if anyone else was home, she was probably just being paranoid. She, upon closer inspection, noticed nothing was wrong and just went on with her routine of taking off her baggy outfit and changing into an even baggier old t-shirt that she bought somewhere in Hatchetfield. It was difficult for her to shower, due to her two broken legs that hurt way too much to put pressure on, so she just ran herself a warm bath. 

Not many people signed her cast aside from Alex, but they could always sign again. So she really had nothing to worry about, or at least nobody of importance has signed her cast. Mostly just the medical staff at the Hatchetfield Emergency Care. She decided that soaking in her sorrows would do her no good and that she should probably start getting ready for bed. After all, she did have to take over another one of her co-worker's shifts tomorrow. Emma heard faint humming that sounded almost similar to ‘Paul's’, but she just brushed it off as her mind playing tricks on her again. They said that they killed him, didn’t they? Emma decided it was best not to overthink it and to just clean up, make some tea and head to bed. Emma heard footsteps make their way over to where she was sitting, but there is no way that anyone could have- an arm wrapped around her shoulder. Emma jumped slightly as she then began to focus on what he was saying, or rather singing;

_ “Black Coffee, you're still my coffee gal~ here-”  _ she recognized this voice, I mean, how couldn’t she have! She almost instantaneously broke down sobbing.

“NOOOOOO!” She shrieked as the tears poured out of her eyes.

“Did you miss me, sexy legs?” he spat walking around to face her, she looked up expecting to see a bullet hole in his head oozing blue shit, but, no. He looked completely unharmed. This just seemed to make her cry harder as she doubled over screaming out various things along the lines of; “Your not Paul, you can’t be Paul, Paul’s dead, they shot him.” Paul interrupted her within a few minutes of her muttering such things.

“I assure you I am.” he knelt down to her level, taking her hands into his. “I want to see a smile, my little latte hottay.” god how Emma hated that nickname, she attempted to throw his hands off of hers as she knew that he was only doing this to fuck with her mind. 

“I will never, ever, ever fall back in love with you Paul.” she spat, stressing each ‘ever’ more and more. “I made that mistake once and I will never fucking make it again.” Paul stepped back glaring at her.

“Sounds like someone's not thinking clearly, I’ll bring you to our ro-”

“Our? Last I checked I’m the one who lived here and you, you just barged in thinking that I’m going to come crawling back to you! Well-”

“Okay, Em. Let's get you to bed, maybe you’ll be better after some sleep.” He reached under her arms and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder, despite how much she screamed and punched him he didn’t seem to let go. She was still surprised that none of her neighbors came to check on her, but then again, these walls were pretty thick. Paul plopped Emma into the bed, before shutting off the lights and snuggling up beside her no matter how much she obtested. She whimpered as he planted a gentle kiss on her neck, one that told her “tell anyone and I will rip you limb from limb and nobody will find your body.” She tried to hold in the tears but it was impossible. Knowing that he was here, with his legs intertwined with hers and his arms around her torso. Knowing that the old Paul, the one that wasn’t softly humming in her ear, was dead somewhere in Hatchetfield along with the old Emma. The old Emma that died the day he walked in singing, that first day he forced her to dance with him despite the fact that her legs were broken, and everything else in between. Her sobbing slowly grew louder as he shushed her planting yet another kiss on her neck.

“Sleep. Now.” Paul demanded. Emma knew what happens from not following his directions so, she forced herself to sleep. She wasn’t tired, she didn’t want to.

And yet, she forced herself to…


	2. They're keeping you away from me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> good 'ol fashioned snatcheroo

Emma woke up and found Paul almost nowhere to be seen. Making her question if he was even there or she was just going completely delusional.

“Morning Em!” Paul called walking into the bedroom as Emma began to slightly panic, realizing that no, this wasn’t a nightmare and yes, he was really there. Still in the clothes from yesterday, holding a cup and small plate with what looked like toast. He sat down on the bed as Emma attempted to scooch away from him but to no real avail. “I made you breakfast!” Emma didn’t trust him at all, she knew that if Paul made any sort of food for her, there was something in it. She shot him an odd glare as he pushed the food more towards her. “Eat, we have something to-”

“We?” She shot up glaring at him.

“Yes we, I told P.E.I.P that you would like to move in with me,” Emma glared at him, dumbfounded. “So P.E.I.P is helping us move into the new house!” Emma wanted to ask why he would do this, but knowing Paul, this isn’t the worst he could have done. Emma refused to eat anything he made knowing it was either going to be burnt or drugged. She learned very quickly after living with him for a few months. “Eat. Now.” He demanded as Emma hesitantly reached for the burnt piece of toast. She just kinda bit the bread, you know, like a normal person. It didn’t taste that strange, but it didn’t exactly taste right. That may be because it was burnt severely, but she didn’t question it.

“So, are we going to P.E.I.P or are they coming to us?” Paul handed her the cup urging her to drink from it, it looked to be a fairly normal cup of water.

“I think they’re coming to us.” She went against her better judgment and took a sip from the glass, It didn’t taste odd at first. In fact, nothing at all seemed to be wrong with it. Maybe it was just a normal glass of water and Emma was overthinking everything.

“Did they tell you anything about Hatchetfield, most specifically if I can get you back there?” Paul shook his head, he clearly wasn’t taking the hint.

“The island is completely destroyed.” Paul sounded genuinely upset, but she knew it wasn’t genuine, everything he's told her is most likely a lie. Emma began to feel slightly nauseous but excused it as ‘Pauls general existence sickening her’, it also explained the room spinning and her lack of consciousness. The more water she drank, the worse her symptoms appeared to become, a pounding headache, the room spinning at a million miles an hour, the overwhelming tiredness she felt. She began to slip in and out of consciousness as any and all noises she heard began to blur together. 

“Paul?” She managed to stammer out. 

“Yeah?”

“Did, did you put something in here?” she lazily pointed to the cup. She could tell the blurred figure, who she guessed was Paul, was displeased with this accusation.

“Emma, why would I do something like that? You know me better than this!” Emma flopped back onto the bed, completely unconscious, as Paul glared at her almost lifeless body grinning. Step one was complete, now all that's left to do is get her back to Hatchetfield, as life would be so much easier there for the both of them.


	3. Who knew sing-a-longs could be so scary?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cars are fun places to be...  
> when your not with a singing zombie mother fucker and some showtunes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, take in the jokes now, I promise the next two chapters aren't going to be funny.  
> P.S I only have two other chapters written btw...

Emma woke up, unable to remember what had just happened or why she was stuffed in the back of someone's car. She instinctively began to panic, she knew what was happening, this wasn’t very new for her. She began to bang on the trunk and scream for someone, anyone to just help her.

“Please! Someone help me!” She begged, screaming at the top of her lungs. She continued to bang on the back of the trunk, screaming until her voice went hoarse.

“Are you done yet?” a familiar voice called back.

_Paul…_

“Paul, please let me go,” she begged, unable to see his reaction due to the overpowering darkness consuming her. She sobbed banging her fists against the only thing keeping her from freedom.

“Hmmm, let me think about it… yeah, no.” Paul turned up the radio, revealing shitty, loud show tunes blasting through the speakers. Emma cringed, hugging her legs closer to her. She was about as happy as she could have been back in Colorado. She was happy thinking Paul was dead and gone. She was not okay with the fact that she was sitting in his trunk presumably leaving Colorado.

“Paul?” she sniffled, “Where are we going?” Paul didn’t answer, instead, he began to sing along to whatever musical was blasting through the shitty speakers in his car.

_“I was meant to be yours!_

_We were meant to be one!_

_I can't make this alone!_

_Finish what we've begun!_

_You were meant to be mine!_

_I am all that you need!_

_You carved open my heart!_

_Can't just leave me to bleed!”_

Emma continued to sob as he continued to sing along to the music. Emma just waited for the ride to end, as it felt like she's been here forever. She wanted to ask what he did to her while she was unconscious, but she knew he wouldn’t have done anything too horrible to her. Emma didn't bother asking any more questions and just sat there in silence, hoping she would arrive at wherever she was supposed to be.

A few hours have passed before the car jolted to a stop. Emma prayed that he was coming to release her out into the wild, but he just stopped to get food for himself, within a couple of minutes they were back on the road to god knows where. Emma had decided that it was best to sleep now knowing that he probably wouldn't let her sleep once they got to his house. Emma struggled to sleep over Pauls constant loud belting of obnoxious show tunes, but she eventually managed and slept about as peacefully as she could. Paul eventually made it back home to Hatchetfield with Emma still sleeping in the trunk. Paul parked the car and grabbed the small girl out of the trunk. Emma woke up mid-lift and panicked as she suddenly realized where she was headed to. She begged Paul to put her down as she was perfectly capable of just wheeling herself around with her wheelchair, Paul laughed.

“You don't need it, I’ll just carry you. It’ll be just like old times, remember?” Ah yes, how could she forget being picked up and sang to by a man she once thought she could trust. A man she once fell in love with. A man who once said “I will never be in a fucking musical” straight to her face, and then within a few days had her locked up in his basement as he sang to her.

“I don’t know how you sleep at night, I don’t know how you somehow think that this is okay in any sense of the word.” Emma attempted to scooch out of his arms, but to no avail. He planted a kiss on her forehead as they grew closer and closer to that hellscape that brought back such fond memories to both of them. Emma wanted to scream and cry, but as she quickly learned, sitting on your ass does nothing for you. She began to attempt to push him away from her as some attempt to escape him, not like it did much for her. She was already severely weaker than most people considering she was previously found in critical condition, but matching her up against someone who has an ungodly amount of strength was just considered unfair at this point. Much to Paul’s happiness, she stopped fighting and just sat there. She was going to escape tonight, granted she had enough energy to do so. She knew she probably wasn’t going to make it far, but it at least was worth a try.


	4. That moment when your legs don't work like they used to before...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul wants things just like old times, but Emma doesn't...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, thats my new creative chapter title, enjoy!

Emma panicked as Paul carried her down the stairs, attempting to suppress the memories the room brought back. The smell of iron wafted over her he as she was brought to the old place she used to spend her time in. He dropped her onto the cold, hard, floor, looking down at her.

“Welcome home, make yourself comfy.” Emma scoffed as Paul turned away as if he was going to leave.

“Comfy, ha.” Emma continued to chuckle to herself as Paul turned around, glaring at her.

“Excuse me, do you have something to say? Because I could have just left you on the street, but for some fucking reason I decided to bring you home with me. You should be grateful that I even decided to bring you home with me.-” Paul droned on for what felt like ages before Emma interrupted him.

“I’m sorry are you done yet, because none of this is my fault, you were the one who kidna-” Paul snorted.

“One day, you’re going to be so fucking happy I brought you back to Hatchetfield.” Emma rolled her eyes, this is the dumbest fucking thing she's ever heard.

“I told you I fucking hated Hatchetfield! I fucking hate it here!” Paul walked over to a table containing a pair of oddly large scissors, he ran his fingers along the blade, until he reached the point. He proceeded to twirl the scissors in his hands as Emma's rant slowly faded away, she began to wait for a response.

“You remember Kelsie, right?” Emma nodded hesitantly, “Well, she's going to help us a bit today. All you have to do is stay still and say nothing. Do you think you can do that?” Paul made it a goal to make her feel absolutely fucking stupid, Emma nodded. When Paul brings out the weapons, she knew to do exactly what he said no questions.

“Paul? What are you going to do to me?” Emma backed away to the best of her ability, swearing under her breath as she backed herself into the corner.

“Uh, uh, uh, what did we say about talking?” Paul crouched down to her level, grabbing one of her casted legs and propping it up. He began to cut away the bulky-ass cast much to Emma's horror. Her legs weren’t going to be done healing for another couple months or so, leaving Emma completely mortified. She wanted to scream out and tell him to stop, but she knew he wouldn’t listen. Her leg looked absolutely abhorrent, nothing had changed from her previous condition. She didn’t expect much to happen considering this is only her third week in (an almost) full leg cast. Paul didn’t hesitate to move onto the over leg, carelessly dropping the other one to the floor, earning a small yelp from Emma. Both her legs were back in the condition that Paul knew them to be in, just significantly less jagged and more discolored and bruised. Emma was now plotting her escape, she didn’t care what she had to do, she just knew she had to get out at the nearest possible moment. Paul glanced down at his watch, and made some dumb remark on what time it is, followed by best word Emma could have heard; “goodnight”.

Emma would have never thought to have found comfort in that simple word that was otherwise meaningless. She knew the moment he made his way upstairs is the moment she makes a break for it. She knew her way around the house and knew that the basement is fairly close to the door. Emma clawed her way up the stairs, shoving the unlocked door open. She tried to be as quiet as possible but to no real avail. All she had to do was pry her way over to the door and she was homebound. Emma glanced around, making sure Paul was nowhere to be found, she was relieved to say he wasn’t. Emma slowly but surely clawed her way towards the door, getting closer and closer by the second.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, escaping already? I thought you would have learned your lesson the first time you tried to leave me?” Emma gasped glancing up at Paul, knowing this wasn’t going to end well for her. Paul lifted the baseball bat over his head, swinging it down and hitting Emma in the head, hard enough to possibly concuss her. She tried to fight her own brain and stay awake. Who knows what could happen if she fell asleep now! But Paul was strong, especially with a steel bat and that much blunt force. She tried not to blackout, no matter how much of a struggle it was, but it was no use. Her face slammed to the floor as her eyes shut, leaving her in total darkness. Paul just gave her some sort of sadistic smirk, knowing exactly what he planned to do once she awoke.


	5. Top 10 most brutal anime betrayals: Number one, Paul and Emma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens when you try to escape, Emma!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is super gory and brutal, if you don't like that, skip this chapter, I'll recap in the next chapter!

It didn’t take long for Emma to wake up and realize where she was or what was going on. I mean, when you’re chained to a wall, it doesn’t exactly take long for you to figure out what's going on here. She knew struggling wouldn’t help her in the slightest so she just sat there, defeated. 

“You literally never learn, do you?” Paul sighed, examining the weapons on the table. 

“Please, just let me go! P.E.I.P is probably looking for me and I really don't want to end up in more legal trouble.” That was a lie, she didn’t care what P.E.I.P was going to say or do. She just wanted Paul to leave her alone and maybe return her to Colorado. 

“Emma, P.E.I.P put so many people in different parts of the world, what makes you think that they’re going to care about only you? You’re not that special, Em.” Emma knew what he said was right, why would P.E.I.P care about her? Paul picked up a thin knife, Bonnie. He named that one Bonnie. Emma had many run-ins with Bonnie, as far as she knew that was Paul's favorite weapon.  Emma wanted to fight him, but between the fact that she was chained to a wall and the fact that both her legs are broken, she couldn’t do much.

“Paul, please, don’t do it.” She knew he was going to cut her up anyways, but she just thought she might have some sort of say in it. 

“You keep on acting like begging is going to do you any good,” Paul crouched down to her level so he was face to face with Emma. “I promise you it’s not!” Paul sounded amused, it sounded artificial, but still amused nonetheless. “What should I do with you?” Paul traced the knife gently along her jawline.  Emma turned away much to his dismay. Paul glanced at her unwounded thigh like an artist glancing at a blank canvas. He grabbed her leg earning a small yelp from Emma. He began to trace out jagged words on her thigh. Emma wasn’t exactly sure what if said or if she even wanted to know what it said. All she knew was that if she made any little noise Paul would probably just stab her right then and there. Emma tried to hold back the tears, but it was no use. It was one thing to stop herself from screaming as the blade slowly jabbed her more and more, but it was a whole other thing to not have any reaction at all. Paul began to cut in deeper, earning a distressed cry from Emma as the tears dropped onto the floor. He looked like he was enjoying this. She wished her leg was numb, and that she didn't fear blood. She tried not to look at her leg as Emma could barely make out a letter through all the blood pouring out of the fresh wound. What she could make out was blood staining her raw, wounded flesh. Paul moved onto the next word earning a slightly louder cry from Emma. Nothing could stop Paul at this point, not that little bit of his previous self that somehow still had a say in his life, not Emma’s screaming and begging, hell, he wouldn’t have even wanted to stop. He likes moments like this with Emma, he loved seeing her like this, he just wished other Paul didn’t always take over and help Emma out from time to time.

“Please! Paul! Just stop!” Emma yelled as she began hyperventilating between gut-wrenching screams of pure agony. Paul didn’t respond he just began to contently hum as he continued to carve away at his masterpiece. She sobbed harder, struggling to take any more air in.

"Shut the fuck up!" He stabbed her arm, earning another gut-wrenching scream as she struggled against her restraints.

Within a matter of hours, Emma was completely out of breath and Paul had finished his carving. Paul walked up the stairs, leaving Emma alone in the basement sobbing. Both her legs hurt with a pain that words could never describe. The basement was cold, super fucking cold, Emma wished for death to just take her now, but she knew Paul wouldn’t let that happen. Emma just continued to sob from the excruciating pain. She hoped Paul would come back to tend to her wounds and let her come upstairs, but he never did. She knew he probably wouldn’t come down to see her until the morning, so she just decided to sleep. It was pretty difficult, but she managed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow look at that, you survived! Congrats!


	6. Let's give Emma a nice life for two seconds, shall we?

Emma jolted awake at the sudden noise that rang through the small, desolate basement. The sound of footsteps always traveled in the basement. The stone floor just managed to amplify Emma's fears as the footsteps became louder and closer. 

“Wakey-wakey! Congratulations! You’ve slept a whole forty-eight seconds! Time to remind you of what happens when you do that again.” There Paul stood holding a small shaker of salt. Emma tried to mask any emotion from showing on her face, but she knew it was no use. Her leg was still bleeding profusely, Paul sprinkled some salt onto her still bleeding wound. Emma yelped slightly trying to conceal her emotions. When he didn’t get the reaction he desired, he used his palm to rub the salt in more. Emma whimpered, but was determined not to say or do anything she might regret. The more he rubbed the salt in, the more distraught Emma appeared to become. By the time he was completely done, she was sobbing, screaming for him to stop. Thankfully, he eventually did stop, but he didn’t seem to be done with her. She could now make out what the letters on her leg spelled out; “Property of Paul Matthews.” with a small heart carved crudely next to it. He noticed her looking at it and smirked down at her. “I’m guessing you like it?” She shook her head.

“No, no I really, honestly hate it…” She regretted everything in this one moment and was coming up with a way to fix what she had just said to him. “No! No! I didn’t mean that! I love it! You know I love it, I wouldn’t lie about loving something like this!” Paul rolled his eyes, sighing.

“You’re a terrible liar, Em…” She winced at the nickname. God, how she hated being called Em. “And you know exactly how I feel about lying…” She hung her head in shame.

“I’m sorry, Pa-”

“Bullshit. You’re not sorry. I had a ton of fun things planned for us and now I have to adjust my schedule” Emma sighed.

“Was it going to be fun for you, or fun for me?” Paul had to think for a second.

“I think for the both of-  _ Em, he was going to hurt you, bad. Like really, really bad!” _ She recognized that other voice, that voice that sounded like he had just gargled with sandpaper, glass, and gravel.

“Paul? Real Paul?” She smiled softly. “Quick, what do you think of musicals?” He cringed at the question.

_ “Musicals still make me extremely uncomfortable, it's just, two hours of inescapable suffering…” _ she giggled softly at his response, knowing it was her Paul. _ “Let's get you cleaned up, okay? I’m sorry about what he did…” _ Emma nodded as Paul walked over helping her out of her chains. He decided to pick her up, carrying her to the bathroom. He carefully placed her on the counter, grabbing some medical shit. He carefully began to clean out her cut, trying his best to be gentle.

 “Ow!” She grabbed his hand, sinking her nails into his flesh. Paul hissed softly, still cleaning her cut. 

_ “I know, it’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.” _ Eventually, Paul finished cleaning her cut, walking over to the bathtub. He started the tap, grabbing her some off-brand soap that was just lying around in the bathroom. She looked over to him, mentally questioning his motives.  _ “D-do you need help, you know… getting undressed?”  _ She giggled softly at his awkwardness. 

“That would be nice… just try not to stare too much.” She winked, smiling softly. Paul went completely pale; almost all the color was drained from his face, except for the soft pink that dusted his cheeks as he averted his gaze as he tried his best to take her shirt off. “You know what, fuck it, I can do it myself.” Emma pulled her shirt down as he looked back at her.

_ “You sure?” _ Emma nodded.  _ “Positive?” _ Paul really wanted to make sure she was okay.

“Yes I’m positive, you can go.” She sighed as Paul walked out, coming back in with a towel. She limped over to the tub.

Within a few minutes, she limped out, holding the wrapped towel around her top tightly, making sure it wouldn’t fall. Paul had laid out a shirt and pants for her, giving her something to wear for now. Emma put the clothes on, sitting on the floor waiting for him. She knew if ‘Paul’ came back he wouldn’t be happy to see her on his bed. Paul came back, Emma didn’t look up, trying her best to avoid his gaze. Paul walked over, placing something on the table. He knelt down, wrapping her thigh carefully. Emma slowly looked up smiling at him.  _ “Can I pick you up?” _ Emma nodded softly. Paul carefully picked her up, placing her on the bed right next to him. He carefully wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She hummed softly as he wrapped the blankets around her, making sure she was warm. Emma moved closer to him until her back was pressed against him. He was warm, she was cold, it was a perfect fit.


	7. Wearing yellow to the funeral of Emma's mental health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma opens up and Paul lies straight to her face and completely breaks her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell from the title, I saw Six and it was A M A Z I N G

Emma woke up before Paul, snuggling closer to him, it was extremely rare for her to be treated this well. Paul lazily wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He wasn’t humming, singing or seemingly tapping out any rhythms on her skin. That was a really good sign, that means her Paul is back, while it may not be for a while, he’s back. This was the man she fell in love with, the one she wanted to adopt a couple of dogs and run a pot farm with, that man who spilled coffee all over himself at Beanies while awkwardly staring at her. He was trying to get work done, but he just couldn’t stop staring, enthralled by her beauty. The Paul that took her to see a silent movie and let her sleep on his shoulder, using his jacket as a blanket. The very same Paul who almost burnt down the house by leaving a spoon in the microwave and proceeded to not tell Emma. Though she did find out when she smelt smoke and knew it wasn’t her fault this time. Best of all it was the same man who comforted her when the flashbacks got bad, the ones of their ‘friends’, who as of now are mindless members of the hive, being brutally slaughtered. Those flashbacks of her being tied to a chair and sung to by a man she thought she could trust, a man who had a fairly good security system (though, he did seem to rely on it a bit too much). The man who did a genuine proposal after the faked, scripted one, just to really show her that he still loved and cared for her. Damn, was she glad he was back. Paul took a while longer to wake up, leaving Emma to just enjoy the warm touch of his arms wrapped around her, and his hands resting on her hips. She remembered that perfect feeling of his hand in hers, their fingers intertwined perfectly as if he was the missing piece to her puzzle. One of those pieces you find buried under the couch years later and finally return to the rest of the puzzle, revealing a perfect picture. But then something happens to that puzzle and as much as you hope to never forget the feeling of your missing piece being connected, you know it's going to happen. You just sit there asking yourself “when?” Not wanting it to be soon, but you know its too late for that. Paul eventually stirred awake, yawning softly as he held her tighter. Emma probably wouldn’t have admitted this to just anyone, but she loved him. She really did. If she was lucky enough to wake up in his bed in the morning, she would get kicked out quicker than she got invited in. But here she was, still lying next to him, still madly in love.

_ “Morning princess…”  _ Paul pecked her cheek, smiling widely. God, did she love that big ‘ol dorky grin he gave her.

“Mornin’ babe…” This is the life she always wanted with him, lazily lying in bed practically side by side. Fluffy was off somewhere, being distracted by his evil deeds, everything just seemed perfect. Of course, it wasn’t actually, but Emma’s mind was just trying to rationalize his treatment. Nevertheless, she cherished these few moments of warmth before other Paul took over and beat her nearly to death. These moments, while few and far between where one of the only things still keeping her going and somewhat stable. She really tried to sleep through the night on her own, the abuse from both her past and Paul had really sent her completely overboard. She just wanted her Paul back for good…

She hadn’t told Paul about her dad, how he treated her, how he nearly broke her arm one time when she was only five years old, how Jane was the clear favorite who got everything she ever wanted and Emma was just tossed aside, how her parents fully blamed Emma for the death of her beloved sister even though she was thousands of miles away in Guatemala. She was terrified he wouldn’t listen, that he would turn it all back to her and just say she deserved it, she knew she did, she just didn’t want to hear another person say it.

_ “Em? Are you okay? You’re really quiet?” _ She shakily nodded, trying her best to not let him catch on, but of course, he did indeed catch on.  _ “No, you’re not what's wrong?” _ Emma just shook her head yet again, not wanting to open up about her past home life and how ‘his’ treatment just reminded Emma of her dad. _ “Please Em, you’re worrying me by not telling me…”  _ Emma sighed, speaking softly.

“Paul, you really don’t want to know…” Paul took her hands into his.

_ “Emma, please. I want to help you…” _ Emma sighed.

“I’ve never told anyone this, are you sure you actually want to hear this? It gets pretty bad, I’m not sure you actually want to hear th-” Paul nodded.

_ “If you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen to it all…” _ Emma nodded, sighing softly.

“My mom didn’t love me, and my dad… he… he didn’t really either… I was the fuck up, the problem child who couldn’t do anything right. Do you remember my sister? The one I told you about? Jane?” Paul nodded, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “They very clearly loved her more, even from the start. She was the miracle, the beautiful one, the planned one, and I was just the other one, the mistake, the kid they should have aborted but for some reason, they didn’t…” A tear dripped down Emma’s face, as she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Paul always hated seeing her like this, but he never knew her childhood was that bad. “My dad sometimes would get, really pissed by something dumb I did and he would… he, used to hit me, and insult me,” Her voice cracked as a few more tears dripped out of her eyes. “sometimes he wouldn’t let me eat or he would lock me in my room and not let me out until I learned my lesson, he used to call me names, give me harsh punishments and sometimes he would keep me home from school and make sure I didn’t talk to anyone…” Emma wiped away more of the tears that had dripped out of her eyes, she didn’t look up at Paul, she didn’t want his pitty.

_ “What did he say about you?” _

“I was a whore, a mistake, a fucking dumbass, an ugly slut, the reason he drank, and… others…”

_ “He didn’t… do anything more to you? Right?” _ Emma shook her head.

“Thankfully, no, he didn’t really even threaten to do it.”

_ “What do you mean by he didn’t really?” _

“He would always say, ‘Other little girls out there have it much worse than you ever will. Their dads do much worse than I would. Your lucky you’re repulsive, bitch.’ So I mean, he didn’t exactly threaten to do it to me, but he did threaten to throw me out of the house a few times…”

_ “Oh, Emma…” _ He held her close, wrapping her completely in his warmth. Emma just continued to cry softly now into his shoulder.

 “And I vowed that one day if I somehow decided to have kids, I would be a better mom and I would raise them right and not do what they did, but it doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn’t matter because now, your infected, I have severe trust and intimacy issues and life will never be the same… but, I don’t want your pity, I might be a lost cause but I don’t need your help, just promise me you’ll try to get… him… to stop.” Emma hadn’t told him the full story, she really meant the whole ‘I don't want you to feel bad for me’ thing. Paul just chuckled, catching Emma completely off guard.

“You have two seconds to get out of my bed before I bash your skull in.” Emma hopped out of his bed, dragging herself by her elbows attempting to make it to the door as quickly as possible, she eventually made it to the steps leading her down to the ground level. She believed she could stand and walk down the stairs, but of course, life always has other plans for poor Emma. She leaned against the banister, putting all her weight on the weak wood, she took one step on her broken leg. Nothing. She seemed fine, gaining some confidence. She took another step, on her more injured leg, that of which immediately gave out sending her tumbling down the stairs. Paul stormed out of his room, glaring down at the small heap on the floor. Emma refused to look up at him as he stormed down the stairs, he growled, picking her up by her hair. “You’re fucking pathetic, you know that right?” He threw Emma back down to the ground, kicking her side when he didn’t get the answer he wanted. “Answer me when I speak to you, bitch!” Emma let out a weak ‘Yes’. Paul grabbed her by her hair, dragging Emma- who was (as you could probably guess)  kicking and screaming- back down to the basement. He pushed her to the floor, getting more and more pissed. “Shut the fuck up!” Emma shushed herself, backing away from him. “Why the hell do you think I’d ever let you sleep in my bed? You’re just a fuck-up that no one could love!” Emma sniffled, letting the tears spill. “You’re lucky I can even still look at your hideous fucking face!”

“W-what? I-I thought you?”

“Loved you? How the fuck could I do that?”


	8. The Human Glow-Stick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Paul' is still a piece of shit, but Paul isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a filler but believe me, there's a lot of good shit to come including 12, yes 12 Christmas chapters (think 12 days of Christmas but with a psychotic-asshole giving the 'gifts') and a number of really elaborate plot lines that will all hurt a lot. Please bear with me as I'm busy with my two schools (Feel free to ask about it in the comments, I'll explain) and friends, these chapters take a while to write and I normally don't like putting out something I wouldn't call my best work-or even close to my best work, but I promise that the next 15 or so chapters will be better than this one.  
> thanks y'all!

Emma just cried louder, burying her face in her hands, what she didn’t know was Paul- real Paul- had come back. 

_ “Emma? What’s wrong? What did he do?”  _ She shook her head, backing away from him.  _ “Em, what happened?” _ She wouldn’t answer him, crying harder. She knew Paul could just turn on her at any second and Emma would just have to endure his abuse, making her question if he even actually loved her. He got closer, sitting next to her. _ “Emma, please, just tell me what he said…” _

“Is it true?” She whispered. “Am I really that unlovable? Did you ever actually love me?” Paul just seemed stunned, shocked that she would even think that he doesn’t love her. Emma was sobbing and Paul was completely heartbroken. He slowly stood up, partially in shock. He sensed that she probably didn’t want to be near him, but he didn’t realize how wrong he was. Emma immediately broke down, trying to shield herself from his attack. Paul just shook his head, taking a small step back.

_ “Em, I’m not going to hurt you…”  _ Paul spoke quietly. Emma hesitantly looked up wiping her tears away.

“Y-you’re not?” He nodded, crouching down to her level. 

_ “Emma, I would never want to hurt you…” _ he sat beside her. _ “Never, no matter what.” _ Emma just nodded, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.  _ “Do you want anything to eat?”  _ Emma nodded, smiling through her tears. He picked her up, bringing her to the dinner table. She snuggled closer to him, trying not to notice the growing, blue blush adorning his cheeks. 

“Paul… please don’t burn my food again. Seriously, don’t.”

_ “I won’t sweetheart…”  _ he smiled, pecking her forehead. Emma smiled up at him, very much in love with him. She stood next to him, despite the growing pain in her legs, leaning on him for support. He just smiled down at her, madly in love with her. He eventually finished making sandwiches, the only food he literally can't burn and handed a plate to Emma. Allowing her to walk beside him for support. She carefully walked beside him, death gripping the plate. Paul tapped her hands. _"Hey, sweety, you don't_ _ have to hold the plate that tight, it's not going to fall." _   She looked up at him then down at her knuckles that had gone completely white. She slowly loosened her grip until she was just holding it like she normally would've. He just smiled down at her. _"Thats it. Atta girl."_ Paul started rubbing her back softly, leading her to the table. Within that split second of contact and praise, she accidentally let go of the plate, dropping it to the floor and watching it shatter. Emma immediately dropped to her hands and knees, picking up the shards of glass and the sandwich and just apologizing. Apologizing for being here, for dropping the plate, for being born, but worst of all for Paul, she apologized for not having enough courage to finish the job. He just looked down at the small girl, sobbing on the floor, wondering if he was ever going to get an explanation. _"What job?"_   Emma took a shaky breath, holding her wrist higher up to the light.

* * *

He was staring at her wrists and at that very moment Emma felt a completely new kind of fear she hadn't felt for years. That overwhelming fear that telling or showing someone something is going to make them hate you and then you end up losing them forever. He didn't ask any questions as he looked down at the shaky girl standing before him. He just sighed and wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in a tight, warm hug. One that left no doubt in her mind that Paul still loved her. She sniffled into his chest, holding him tight, she was scared to let him go, scared he was going to leave her. 

_"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"_   Six words that broke Emma's heart.

"I was scared you'd hate me..." Six words that shattered Paul's heart into a million pieces. 

_"I could never Emma, I would never."_ She smiled, shaking in his arms. _"Let's get this cleaned up, okay? You can have my sandwich."_ She nodded with a quaint little, shaky 'okay' as he let her go, kneeling down and helping her grab some of the glass off the floor. He took the shards from her hands, dumping them into the trash as he picked up his plate with one hand, snaking his arm around her shoulders with the other. She sat beside him as he slid the plate over to her. She cut the sandwich in half splitting the other half with him. _"Emma, don't bother doing the dishes tonight, I have a better idea..."_ He smiled, brushing his thumb over her knuckles.

* * *

Shortly after dinner Paul went to the cabinet and grabbed as many plates as he could hold, leading Emma out to the patio. It was late at night, Hatchetfield always looked beautiful during summer but especially at night. The fireflies dancing along the yard, the occasional firework display or bonfire and best of all the smells, the smells of the trees and the flowers, the smells of the grass and the rain. It truly was a beautiful place. Paul held one of the plates over the edge of the deck, letting it fall to the ground with a crash. Emma flinched looking up at him, wondering if he wanted her to go grab that. He chuckled, handing her a plate. _"Now you try, just drop the plate over the edge..."_   Her hands shook as she carefully dropped one of her hands, looking up to Paul to see if it was okay to let it fall, he simply nodded signaling Emma to drop the plate. She closed her eyes, letting it drop. It too hit the ground with a crash making Paul smile. _"See? You did it. You have nothing to be afraid of."_   He looked down at her, a giant dorky grin spreading across his face, making Emma blush. He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead as he grabbed another plate, tossing it out into the horizon. Emma did the same, smiling up at him. Paul eventually challenged her to see who could throw it the farthest, and somehow Emma won. They both laughed as Paul lifted her into the air, twirling her around and holding her close like she was the most important thing in his life. At that moment the world seemed to fade away and it felt like they were the only two people in the cosmos. All of it just felt magical, Emma began staring into Paul's beautiful blue eyes, eyes she could just swim in for hours and just find herself lost in. God, she loved him, she loved the way his eyes sparkled and shimmered in the light, she loved the way his nose crinkled ever so slightly when he laughed, she loved hearing him speak, and most of all, she just loved him. She loved every part of him. The earth spun in slow motion as their lips joined together for a kiss, one filled with raw passion, yet it was gentle and not too harsh. Emma's feet finally returned to the ground as Paul pulled away smiling down at her, a soft, glowing blue blush creeping onto his face and dusting his ears.

"Paul?"

_"Yeah?"_

"You're glowing." She snorted, keeping her arms around him.

_"I know."_ He smiled back.


	9. Hallmark but in summer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow look I can write fluff

Paul and Emma were lounging around on the patio, sharing a chair. It was times like these that they were both glad they didn’t have neighbors or anyone around them for miles and miles. It was nice being completely alone in the middle of nowhere during the fall in Hatchetfield. It was still fairly warm so it just felt like a slightly cooler fall, but nonetheless, it was nice. She snuggled up into him, enjoying his company and general warmth against her cold skin. He smiled down at her, pausing the show they were watching on his phone. 

_ “Do you want to do something? It’ll be fun!” _ She nodded. Her legs had been healing up nicely, nice enough that she could actually walk and run. He got up with her still in his arms. He gently reunited her bare feet with the ground, grabbing her hand as he kicked off his shoes. _ “Follow me.” _ He smiled back at her, leading her down the steps and running with her stumbling behind him to the woods. Once they got on the soft, dirt path he stopped running, Emma finally walking beside him. The woods were especially nice at this time of year, there were more fireflies, there were leaves all over the ground making a lovely pathway leading them through the woods and out into another larger field surrounded by trees on the other end. Once the got to the field Paul led her out to the center, laying down with Emma beside him on the grass and looking up. 

“The stars look beautiful tonight…” Emma smiled, looking at Paul. 

_ “So do you.” _ He looked back at her as a blush crept up her neck, dusting her face and making her freckles pop. She hid her face giggling into her hands. She hated how she always got so giddy around Paul, even after everything. Every second felt like the first second they’ve met, yet she felt that they’ve known each other for forever. She moved closer to him, looking up at the stars, trying to discover every constellation decorating the sky.

“I think that ones the Big Dipper.” She smiled, pointing up at the sky. Paul just chuckled, petting her head, messing up her hair. She just giggled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I love you…”

_ “I love you too, sweetheart…”  _ She smiled wider, trying to stop herself from yawning, but she let a yawn slip.  _ “Tired?” _ She nodded, yawning again.  _ “Okay, I’ll race you back home, last one there has to do the dishes for a week, okay?”  _ She nodded.

“You’re on.” They both stood up. Paul counted your three and on three Emma sprinted as fast as she could, outrunning him by easily a mile. She didn’t think much of anything until she was yanked behind him by her arm. He ran in front of her. He turned around, sticking his tongue out at the small girl desperately trying to catch up with him. That fueled her. She stopped just looking him up and down and noticing every little detail about his slim, noodle-like physique and his shockingly fit legs that she rarely looked at and went in for the kill. She used all her energy to sprint past him as fast as her little legs could. Paul looked at her, shocked. 

_ “You go, Perkins!” _ He cheered making her giggle as she continued to sprint past him.

She made it home before him. He was close behind her but she did make it there before him. She was so fucking tired but it was worth it. It was so extremely worth it. Paul stumbled in soon after her, his face all hot and sweaty from trying his hardest to beat her. She didn’t want to admit this initially, but here she was catching herself falling for him all over again. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his face, making Emma swoon.  _ “Wow Emma, swoon much?”  _ She giggled. 

“Shut up glowstick.” She joked.

_ “Glowstick?” _

“Yeah… your sweat is glowing. Literally, your entire face is blue.” She smiled, laughing at his embarrassment. Watching his face just get blue-er

_ “S-shut up.” _ She laughed at him, getting up and standing beside him. _ “I’m going to shower, see you in our room?” _ The way he said ‘our’ just melted Emma, her legs nearly going to jello.

“I’d love that.” She smiled, he looked at her perplexed, but just walked away, going to shower.

Within a few minutes, he came to bed, his hair still wet, making Emma swoon a little more. He flopped down beside her, smiling at her. That smiled just melted her heart. 

“Kiss?” She laid down, moving closer. Paul nodded, pecking her lips. She giggled, yawning soon after.

_ “Sleep.” _ She snuggled up beside him. They both knew she sleeps better in his arms. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He stroked her hair, smiling down at her. She slowly fell asleep against him, snoring gently in her sleep. Paul slowly fell asleep as well.


	10. Chocolate ice cream and silent movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey look its some fluff before I start the 12 days of angst!

-Eggs

-Milk

-Cheese

-Bread

-Coffee

-Whatever else she found and liked

That was their grocery list. That was the one job he entrusted her with. Getting the groceries. A simple task she literally couldn’t fuck up. She looked horrible. Really, really horrible. At this point, she didn’t even keep track of what she had ‘done wrong’ in ‘Paul’s’ eyes. She just walked to the market, keeping her sunglasses on, her hood up and her head low. It was cloudy but warm, giving her no reason to dress the way she is other than her trying to hide what ‘Paul’ did to her. She walked into the store, fumbling with her glasses as she clutched her wallet to her chest, terrified that the lies ‘Paul’ had been telling her were true. That everyone was really just out to get her. She walked with her keys between her fingers, looking around at all the people, terrified that one of them was going to try to kill her with their deli meat.

She walked through the store, quickly grabbing everything she needed, going to the self-checkout to avoid interaction when all of a sudden- _singing?_ _Is someone singing?_ She didn’t know what to do, so she just stood there, her arms shaking as she dropped her groceries. She ran out of the store, not being able to take hearing the sound any longer. Everyone she ran by was singing for some reason, she thought the apotheosis was over? Why’s everyone singing now? She ran faster, but the road just felt like it was going on forever and ever and she was never going to get home. She noticed them all starting to look at her as she just tried to run faster and faster until she bumped into something… or someone? She fell back looking up at Paul. He was pissed, about something. She put her arms up to shield herself from his attacks. 

“The hive needs feed, Emma.” She backed away shaking her head. 

“No…”

“Come on Emma. It’s inevitable.”

“No please…” she didn’t bother to grab her glasses from the floor, just trying to back away. “I don’t want to join the hive, Paul, please don’t make me…” he stalked closer. Emma backed away until she hit the leg of one of the mindless aliens. 

“Everyone you care about is here Emma. You don’t want to let them down again, do you?” The tears threatened to spill down her face as Jane stepped forward. Jane looked fine, her skin looked a little blue, but it didn’t look like she did after that crash. It just didn’t look as grotesque as it really did. She was lifted by one of the members of the hive. Jane stepped forward. 

_ “Spring and summer _

_ Every other day _

_ Blue wind gets so pained _

_ Blowing through the thick corn _

_ Through the bales of hay _

_ Through the sudden drift of the rain _

_ Spring and summer”  _

Emma stumbled back, trying to get away from Jane. She recognized that song. She knew it from their childhood. She used to hug her, rock her back and forth when it got really bad. When her dad really hurt her bad, Jane was there to sing to her, rock her until she calmed down and then just tell her whatever fairytale she had written near her. She knew that relaxed her. Jane was talented. She was three years younger than her, but smart and had a lot more to offer to the world than Emma.

It was clear why Jane was the favorite.

“No… no, you’re not Jane! Your one of them!” Paul grabbed her by her arm. 

“Emma, if she wasn’t Jane, how would she know that song?” Emma froze, just looking at him.

_ “We can start and finish wars _

_ We’re what killed the dinosaurs _

_ We’re the asteroid that’s overdue _

_ The dinosaurs choked on the dust _

_ They died because God said they must _

_ The new world needed room _

_ For me and you _

_ I worship you _

_ I'd trade my life for yours _

_ They all will disappear _

_ We'll plant our garden here… _

_ Our love is god.” _ He pulled her closer. 

“NO! STOP! YOU’RE NOT PAUL!” She screamed out, trying to get his hands off of her in whatever way she could. “FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONE!” She screamed at him.

_ “Emma?” _ She broke down, sobbing.

“Leave me alone! Just fucking leave me alone!” She cried.

_ “Emma!” _

“Just stop! I don’t want to join you!” She screamed, curling up into a ball.

_ “Emma wake up! It’s just a nightmare!”  _ He slammed his hands on her shoulders, just like he did that day at Beanies. She jolted awake, jumping out of her skin.  _ “Emma, you really scared me… are you okay?” _ She looked up at him, lunging into his arms.  _ “Nightmare?” _ She nodded. He just held her close, stroking her hair gently as she just continued to sob. He shushed her, beginning to rock her back and forth, knowing how much it calmed her down.  _ “How can I help you, honey?” _ Emma just shrugged, snuggling closer to him.  _ “Was it a singing nightmare or a flashback from when you were with your dad?” _

“Singing…” Paul just nodded.

_ “Silent movie?”  _ Emma nodded again. He picked her up, knowing Emma tends to be really cuddly and sappy after her nightmares. Emma wrapped her legs around him, keeping her arms around his neck. Paul chuckled, holding her closer. She nuzzled his neck, letting out a soft hum of satisfaction. By the time they made it downstairs, Emma seemed slightly calmer, still in a heightened state but let’s teary-eyed than before. Her heart was still racing, making it harder for her to take in deep breaths. Paul noticed that he was always aware of when she started hyperventilating. He sat her down on the counter, sitting next to her.  _ “Can you breathe with me, Emma?” _ Emma nodded, facing him. He grabbed her hand taking a deep breath in. Emma followed taking a shaky breath in. They both let air out mere seconds apart as Paul started the ritual again. This repeated until Emma seemed significantly calmer. He put his arm around her, kissing her forehead. “Good job… you’re doing really good…” she smiled, wrapping him in her arms.  _ “You’re my universe, Em.” _ Emma moved closer. Paul got the ice cream out of the fridge.  _ “So… what flavor are you feeling today, Emma?” _ She thought for a second.

“Do we still have chocolate?” Paul just nodded.

_ “Your go-to? Of course we do!” _ He grabbed a bowl for her.  _ “Toppings?” _ Emma shook her head.

“Are we watching my favorite again?” Paul nodded. Walking back over to pick her up and take her to the living room, he handed her her bowl of ice cream. He picked her up, holding her close to him. “I’d die for you, Paul… you mean so much to me…” she strongly decided to tell him that she loved him as soon as humanly possible just in case she lost him. She didn’t want to let someone down again. 

_ “What?” _

“I said I’d die for you.”

_ “But why?” _

“Because I’m tired of losing people I care about and I’m especially tired of not appreciating them enough. That’s what happened with…” she choked on the air necessary to get her final word out.

_ “With who?”  _

“Jane.” Her voice cracked. He nodded, just desperately wanting to get her mind off the nightmares. Paul didn’t know how to respond.

_ “Okay.”  _ Emma furrowed her brows, looking up at him.  _ “Okay…” _

“I’m just scared that I’m going to lose you…” Paul nodded. “And I’ll be stuck with him…” He put her down on the couch, wrapping her up in all the blankets they had in the living room. She took a spoonful of her ice cream, staining off into the distance. Paul started up the movie, wrapping an arm around the ‘Emma burrito’ sitting next to him.

It didn’t take long for Emma to fall asleep. She rested her head on Paul’s shoulder snoring softly, occasionally mumbling whatever she was saying in her dreams. Thats how he was normally able to tell what her dream was about. Every little tick she did in her sleep made him laugh, making her move closer. She trusted him, she trusted him a lot. He grabbed her ice cream, finishing it up for her. Paul never thought his life would end this well, hell he didn't think he would have even made it through high school. But here he was, and god damn he was glad he was still here. He probably wasn’t here for much longer as the apotheosis was rapidly taking control of him but he was going to try his hardest to be there for Emma. No matter what.


	11. On the first day of Christmas my abusive, alien husband gave to me…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. A partridge in a pear tree, otherwise known as a useless bullshit gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy first day of christmas, if you celebrate!

Emma was struggling to stand, between the huge wings that were sewn into her skin and the fact that she was still losing a lot of blood. The white dress she was forced into by ‘Paul’ was in fact no longer white, but stained red. The blood was very new and obviously from this fun little encounter with her jackass infected husband.

“Stop being so fucking slow. Move it.” He grabbed her by her hair, dragging her to the living room, ignoring her screams. There, in that room was a fairly large Christmas tree. The white lights glistened enchantingly. It really was a beautiful tree, minus the ornaments… 

In a clear view of… anyone was a mixture of religious ornaments and weapons. Guns, flamethrowers, knives, weapons Emma wasn’t aware he owned. Sitting on the top of the extremely tall tree was a small, ornate angel holding Bonnie like it was nothing. There, ever so slightly behind the tree was a dingy meat hook. A large meat hook. One made to hold the weight of a human. He definitely got that one of the black market. And right beside the tree, there was a ladder...

That lead up to the meat hook...

It didn’t take long for Emma to connect the pieces. She began to back away, desperately trying to get away from ‘Paul’. The second he noticed her attempting to escape he grabbed her by her arm, pulling her closer to him. she could see the malice and overall lack of holiday spirit in his eyes. In this story, very much unlike 'The Grinch', Paul's heart will not grow three sizes today. In fact, he will never regret his actions at all, thats just the kind of man he is.

“Nuh-uh.” He dragged her to the ladder. He was glad she was severely underweight, and that he was just really, really strong. But anyways, he liked having this power over her. He was able to get her on the meat hook, no matter how much she shrieked and sobbed. No matter how much she fought back, it was no match for ‘Paul’. He stepped back admiring his work for a little too long. He pulled out his phone. “Say cheese!” She cried out louder.

“Paul stop! Please!” She screamed sobbing harder. 

The hook was tearing into her skin, Emma was probably going to pass out from the loss of blood. Paul took a few photos, smiling wickedly. 

“Now you finally know what it's like to be tall! hey, Emma. How’s the air up there?” Emma was gasping for air, struggling to breathe, she couldn’t even think, let alone speak. “Listen, this is no fun if you don’t answer me!” She flinched, taking in one last breath. For some reason ’Paul’ finally agreed to let her down, the ringing in her ears had gotten so unbearably loud she literally wanted to cry, but for some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to tears. Her head felt like it had just been slammed into a wall, her vision was cloudy and she didn’t remember being this nauseous or sweaty before she got up there. She glared at him, just trying to stabilize her shallow breaths. “Wow… okay no need to glare at me like that, honey.” Shit. Her vision was just fading and getting worse, the world was just spinning and getting dimmer and darker until she fell back, Paul sighed. “Fucking entitled bitch.” He grabbed her wrist dragging her back down to the basement. He threw some bandages at her, letting her bandage herself up if she ever woke up.


	12. Day 2- How's it hangin'?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> take a guess what this chapters about

Paul dragged her to their living room, pushing her to the floor. Her back was still sore from the meat hook and the wings pulling at her skin. She cried out the second she hit the floor, not looking up at the ceiling. 

“Happy second day of Christmas, sweetheart.” She tried to back away. 

“What? What’s going on? What are you going to do?” She finally looked up to the ceiling noticing a noose, supposedly wrapped in sparkly blue tinsel. He grabbed her leg, making her scream as he had recently re-broken them. He flung her over his shoulder, bringing her over to the chair. He set her feet down on the soft, white material, making her shiver at the temperature of the material. He let her go, looking up at her. 

“Oh, you know what to do.” He scoffed. Emma looked at him, trying her hardest to keep the tears at bay. 

“Paul… please, don’t make me, this isn’t how I wanted to go out…” 

“I know, you wanted to go out shielding orphans from a raging wildfire, yeah… well, sometimes we don’t get to choose how we die. Now, just do it.” Paul spat.

Emma took in a shaky final breath, sticking her head through the rope. The tinsel scratched at her face and neck making the idea of strangling to death way more miserable than need be. She squeezed her eyes shut as Paul walked over, kicking the chair away, so her feet could no longer reach the floor and just dangled there. She flinched at the initial drop of the chair, knowing that that was going to be one of the last noises she’s ever heard. 

“Good.” She kicked frantically, just trying to get down. She was gasping for air, gagging as rope seemed to press harder against her voice box. Paul backed away, admiring the full picture, she stopped kicking, eventually, tiring herself out as her hope for survival was quickly fleeting. She decided to just give into deaths’ cold embrace, assuming it’d be better than living with Paul. Paul knew that she wasn’t going to die, she might be knocking on death's door, but she’s not going to die. He didn’t calculate the drop, so she’d just dangle there, there’s no way her neck would snap unless he snapped it for her. Paul took another photo for their Christmas card, waking back over. 

“I guess I have to let you down hope you had fun up there.” he reconnected her feet with the chair, as she quickly moved her head away from the rope, taking large gasps of air. Emma nearly collapsed to the floor, sitting next to the chair. She struggled to regulate her breathing. Her head hurt, that’s to be expected but it hurt more than it ever should. She knew her nose was bleeding, she could feel the blood running down her face, tainting her lips blood red as she wiped the blood away. She rubbed her neck, heaving loudly as she attempted to stabilize herself against the chair, but he dragged the hair away from her. 

“Oh shut up you're fine!” He grabbed her by her ankle, making her sob out in agony, dragging her back down to the basement and tossing her down the steps. He had something fun planned for tomorrow and didn’t want Emma to find out early.


	13. Holiday trauma (day three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yep, this is the chapter thats about childhood assault but it won't be graphic I promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heres your skip button if you don't want to read this, it's worth mentioning before you start reading this that 'Paul' is an asshole in this story, the way he treats Emma in this specific chapter is not how anyone deserves to be treated. If you went through this and someone talked to you like this, please give me their address because I will fight them.

He led Emma upstairs again, leading her to the dining room table. 

“Today’s going to be a little bit different, so sit down and I’ll be right with you…” Paul ran off to the living room as Emma dabbed at her nose, noticing it was still bleeding from yesterday's… incident. She sat on the chair, noticing it was the same material as yesterday and immediately looking up to the ceiling, making sure there was no hidden gimmick to this. There wasn’t, thankfully. Emma almost relaxed in her seat, wondering if she could afford such a luxury, spoiler alert, she can’t. Paul waltzed back into the room, holding a collar, a remote and Bonnie. He walked behind Emma, moving her hair to the side and putting the collar around her neck. It was definitely not your average kinky collar, it was definitely bulkier than it should ever be. He held the remote, sending a jolt into her neck. She yelped, glaring at him. “Feel good?” He smirked, knowing damn well it wouldn’t. Especially because he shocked her where the rope dug in the most.

“No Paul. No, it doesn’t.” He just ignored her and kept going.

“So… what I’m going to do today is, I’m going to ask you a couple of questions. They’re not hard, you just need to answer everything honestly. First question, what was your earliest memory of Christmas.” Emma Didn’t want to answer that, but it was either talk about her past trauma or get shocked again.

“It was Christmas day, I was 16, Jane was 13. I had just gotten my papers so I could work and finally support my mom after my dad completely drained our bank account for the third time in the past couple of months. I started working with Nora because she hadn’t met Zoey yet. I’d man the shop on Christmas and Christmas Eve just to avoid going home and having to be around my dad and his friends.” He pressed the remote, shocking her and making her yelp again.

“I know for a fact that’s not your earliest memory, so let’s try this again. What is your earliest Christmas memory?” Emma really didn’t want to relive that, it wasn’t a fresh wound, it just hurt too much to think about. Another jolt was sent into her neck. “You need to answer.” Emma sighed.

“Fine… I was six, maybe seven? And my dad invited his friends over for the first time. It was Christmas Eve and they were having a few drinks. I was forced to serve them said drinks. Sure enough, they got drunk and…” she hesitated before finishing the sentence. “They started a new tradition. They’d get drunk enough that they wouldn’t be able to distinguish right from wrong. It would normally start with one of them, then the others would join it. And Jane never had to deal with this because she was asleep and of course they wouldn’t subject her to something that terrible. This lasted until I was old enough to have somewhere else to go, they couldn’t remove me from my job, so it stopped…” Paul just glared at her, pure hatred clouding his electric blue eyes, the color could only be described as a color that would most likely make the 80's jealous. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He smirked.

“Why would I enjoy it? I didn’t want it and I was seven!” He shocked her again, making her jump out of her skin a little.

“Wrong answer.”

“How? You asked me about a feeling, there’s not a wrong answer in that situation.” He administered a harder, longer shock, making her sob out. In the midst of Emma being shocked, he took a picture. Her face completely drained of blood, making her look dead and ghostlike, she looked like she was very clearly in pain. 

“You’re not good at this game. I’m going back to bed.” He left her there, not bothering to take off her collar until the next day. She didn’t sleep, she couldn’t bring herself to sleep most days this week. The holiday season was easily her least favorite time of the year, especially the week of Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay you did it


	14. Day 4- arm candy

Paul had removed the shock collar from her neck, dragging her to the living room yet again. Emma didn’t have much of a response, she just followed him knowing she didn’t have a choice. She looked up noting the hooks on the ceiling and the multiple boxes of blue lights. Emma just looked at him, petrified but he didn't care. Paul grabbed one of her legs, earning a few shrieks of agony from her as he wrapped the bright blue lights tightly around her left leg. He then moved on, using the same bunch of lights to wrap her right leg. The lights on the left were starting to leave marks on her skin, slowly heating up to a temperature Emma was not happy to have pressed against her skin for who knows how long. He pulled her right legs’ roping tighter wrapping the two together at the ankles before stringing the lights through the hook on the ceiling. She was now hanging upside down, all the pressure rushing to her skull in pounding agony. She couldn’t hear herself scream, but apparently, it was loud because Paul smacked her. 

“Shut the fuck up!” That seemed to be enough to stop her and he knew it. She whimpered softly. He grabbed her wrists, grabbing another package of lights. He began tying up from her arms, down to her hands. Making sure she really couldn’t move any appendage that could ruin his photo. She started screaming again. Paul backed away, much like he did every day, and began snapping photos for what Emma was convinced was his alternative spank-bank. Paul would always brag to her about how amazing this Christmas card is going to be, but she doubted him, she doubted him big time. He stopped snapping photos and just stood there, admiring his masterpiece. 

“You look good like that… blue really suits you…” he walked up to her. 

“You’d make a great addition to the hive. A nice piece of arm candy to the leading man, wouldn’t you say?” He was slowly starting to let her down. Undoing the hanging portion of her display. He dropped her to the floor as she just backed away. She smacked against the couch, wanting to move further away, but not being able to. 

“You’ll look so good with some blue dripping down your chin… maybe some dripping down your legs if I can get far enough with you...” he smirked, grabbing her face. He was going in for the kill, the signature ‘I’m gonna puke in your mouth, Em and I don’t care if you open your food bin or not, girl.’ That he always fantasized about, like how Audrey fantasized about living somewhere nice and green with Seymour. He got closer, sending Emma into a panic, in one swift motion she lifted her legs, slamming then between his legs, hitting where it hurts. He stumbled back, crying out in pain. The second the pain seemed to subside he stomped over, grabbing her by the face. He pointed an accusatory finger in her face. 

“Now listen here you little shit. Remember that scar you have on your thigh? What does it say?”

“Property of Paul…” she mumbled, looking down, averting Paul’s harsh gaze. 

“Look at me when I speak to you, whore! What does it fucking say?” He yelled.

“Property of Paul!” She said as loud as her vocal cords would let her.

“That means you’re my property! I can do whatever I want to you and you have no say in it, understand?” She nodded. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do…” Paul let go of her face, throwing her to the ground. He dragged her by the lights down the basement stairs, not planning to come back until tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 5

You were just scrolling through YouTube, allowing yourself to dive back into that weird side we all know so well. The side of disturbing murder cases that have not and will not ever be solved. One video piqued your interest. ‘Update_number_1.mov’. The thumbnail was odd, unlike any of the cheesy SFX you’ve seen on here, her scars looked real like she actually needed help. You were slowly regretting clicking on this video but, you weren’t a coward. There is no backing down.

The video opens in a dark room, the soft clicking of a new pair of dress shoes on stone could be heard slowly approaching the camera. In a sudden jolt, the lights went on, as a girl dressed in some barista uniform could be seen. The uniform was dingy and covered in dirt and something that looked like blue paint? There were splotches of blood staining the shirt. A black bag over her head, and everything tied down to a shitty wooden chair. Slowly a tall, lanky man, dressed in a black suit, almost like one you’d seen at a wedding, and a black ski mask came into the frame. He ripped the bag off the girl’s face, making her gasp for the fresh air that was now available to her. She looked down, hiding her face from the camera. But the noodle man had other plans. He grabbed her face, making her cheeks puff up. He turned to point her face at the camera. 

You could have sworn you’ve seen this woman before. You’re not sure where, but you’ve seen her. Maybe in that weird little coffee shop, Beanies if I’m correct. There was still mascara streaming down her face from last night. The first words that were said was.

“Paul, don’t make me.” He smacked her. Going behind the camera to grab something. 

“No! Please not again!” She frantically tried to shield herself, but to no avail, because her arms and legs were tied to the chair. The girl took a shaky breath in. 

“Hi… uh… I’m Emma Perkins, the sole survivor of the hivemind’s total Hatchetfield take over. This obviously isn’t okay as the hive is just trying to improve our lives and resistance does nothing for any of us. That’s why the leader of the hive is not letting me go until someone, anyone pays him 3.4 million dollars or else he’s going to infect me. It an outrageous price, but that’s what he demands... please pay him… please… I just want to see my friends again, and my daughters, please...” Emma pleaded, almost like her life depended on it, because it does. Her voice was cracking and shaking the entire time, making this all feel just a bit more genuine. More tears dripped down her face as she just looked directly into the camera. Every injury was now visible in the light. Her black eye, her split lip, the bruises down her neck and on her arms and legs. And worst of all the rope burn on her neck. The camera cut off before she could say anything more about her situation. Leaving you confused, concerned and wondering if you should do anything about this. Little did you know that you were too late…


	16. Day 6- Much like Ezekiel Young, Emma cant hold her arsenic...

Emma woke up in the living room this time. She didn’t remember being there last night, but she knew something was up.

“You did really good in that video last night… I don’t think anyone’s going to come and save you… but if they do, I’ve got a surprise for them.” He smirked wickedly, grabbing her by the wrists. He snatched the blue lights back up, wrapping them around her wrists tight enough to leave a mark. He threaded the lights through the hook, getting her back up on a chair. He yet again kicked the chair out from under her letting her dangle there with her hands above her head. He grabbed Bonnie, slowly cutting the seams between the wings and her skin. It wasn’t that painful, just a release of pressure.

Today was probably the least agonizing of all of the days but on purpose. Paul wanted her to have a slight rest before tomorrow. He let her down once he was done, just taking a picture of her like that. Emma was positive her Paul was taking over at this point, but she knew that was some level of impossible. He gently brought her back down to the basement, going back upstairs to get her something to eat.

He came back down with a plate. It had a small little gingerbread cookie, horribly decorated with blue frosting as a wild attempt to look like him. Sidenote- it didn't, it looked like if Baby Yoda was blue and also a squashed grape. In other words, it was not a stunner, and definitely not something that would win first prize in a competition. Paul just smiled at her, his eyes glinting in the dim light.

Emma hesitantly took a bite of the cookie, putting it back down on the plate. She looked at him after she finished the piece. Emma looked at him, wondering if he put something in the cookie. She folded over, dry heaving. Trying to suck in as much air as she could. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t fit any more air in her lungs that felt as if they had shrunk at least two sizes. He grabbed a trash can for her to throw up in if it came to that. And it did. She tried to force the bile back down, not wanting to show any weakness. Her skin was drained of all it’s color as she coughed up the bile, retching into the trash can. Once she finished she spat into the can, glaring up at him. “What was that for?” She tried to catch her breath, completely unable to do so.

“What? What was what for?”

“You put something in there, I know it.”

“I was just curious about how you handle your arsenic. Apparently not well…” He grabbed the trash can, going to take it upstairs. “I’ll be back down in a second sweetheart.” He winked at her, walking upstairs. Within a few minutes, Paul came back downstairs, smirking at her. Emma looked up at him, weakly, too tired to come back with a snarky remark.

“You look so sexy like that, all weak and pale, the apotheosis would suit you well…” He sneered, sitting beside her.

“The blue tones would complement your skin tone perfectly, also it’d just be so amazing to know that I infected you. The hive wants you as our leading lady, you could help us spread the apotheosis worldwide.” Paul rested his hand on her upper thigh, drumming his fingers on the delicate, cold skin. She pulled her leg away, not wanting him to touch her. Paul frowned, glaring at her.

Emma has never liked Fluffy. That cat was satan reincarnated. But in this very second, Emma has never been more grateful for that little hellspawn. Fluffy stood outside the basement door, scratching and meowing as a desperate attempt to grab Paul’s attention. In the meantime, Paul had sat between her legs, going in for the kill. The second Fluffy started his daily ‘whoring for attention’ routine he growled.

“I’ll be back for you later.” He noted as he got up, walking to the door and greeting Fluffy in his baby voice.


	17. Day 7- Yummy chlorine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Paul's significantly creepier in this one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had a really bad mental breakdown before writing this so I'm so sorry this reallly isnt the

Paul led her outside this time. Hatchetfield wasn’t warm, but there wasn’t any snow on the ground. Paul had uncovered the pool late last night in preparation for what he and Emma were about to do today. 

The pool was a blue color, not dark, but clearly blue. Paul had no way of getting any sort of apotheosis in the pool. 

Emma had been led out into their back yard, noticing that Paul had changed up the yard. It was now mostly concrete with a giant underground pool. Emma’s hands were tied together, just so she couldn’t stop what him from doing what he wanted. 

Paul pulled Emma out of the house, she was giving him a hard time on purpose. No matter how much he yelled at her or hit her, she didn’t stop screaming. Paul shoved her to the ground and a cold sweat dripped down Emma’s neck. It was all fun and games until Paul got pissed. His eyes would glow, like seriously glow. Like if both of Sans’s eyes glowed, yeah thats Paul.

“So, we’re gonna run a little experiment here. I want to see if you can tell me what you did while you were… away… sound good?” Emma hesitantly nodded as he dragged to the stairs. 

“Have you ever had a dream about me?” He smirked, a different emotion clouding his eyes. He was clearly lusting after her.

“Yes, actually, I’ve had these repeated nightmares that you’re trying to kill me.” He suddenly slammed her head underwater, trying his best to drown her. He brought her head up letting her take in shallow breaths. 

“We’re gonna try this again, what’s the dirtiest fantasy you’ve had at work?” He smirked again, prepared to lift her up if she answered honestly.

“Frankly, that’s none of your-” Paul grabbed her by her neck, the blue glow returning to his eyes as he pushed her head under the water, watching her struggle beneath him. She was frantically trying not to die, trying everything to just get him to let go. But he wouldn’t. He just kept that sadistic smirk plastered across his face until he brought her up out of the water. She gasped for air the second she was brought out of the water and his hands were removed from her throat. He grabbed her by her hair and dragged her back to the basement.


	18. Day 8- Ouchiez

It was a few days later, past the incident with the pool. Emma had been forced to serve him, it was either that or face Paul’s wrath. Emma didn’t mind him watching her as she did her household chores, she didn’t enjoy it as she felt that he was mentally undressing her with his eyes. He would always watch her clean the floor, standing directly behind her. Emma was forced to clean the house, endure his gaze and be verbally harassed if she missed a spot. Emma had just come down the stairs, running off to the laundry room to grab the load out of the dryer. Paul got up, stalking over to the room. He snuck up behind Emma, wrapping his arm around her, his elbow resting on her lower back. Emma flinched, walking away to go upstairs and fold the clothes. He followed her upstairs, making sure she was doing everything correctly and also seeing if he can maybe get to third base with her, or if he was extremely lucky, score with her. She just stood there, folding the clothes quietly, knowing he likes the house silent.

“Those pants look good on you.” She turned around, looking over to him.

“Oh, thank you!” She smiled, going back to folding his clothes. He walked over resting his hand on her hip.

“You don’t know what they’re doing to me…” Emma just walked away, going downstairs to clean up the tree. He followed her.

“Hey! You can’t keep ignoring me!” Emma flinched, starting to clean the ornaments. She flinched when he stomped into the room, slamming the door behind him. The glass ornament slipped from her hands, falling to the floor in what felt like slow motion for her. She hesitantly looked up at him, immediately dropping to her knees and going to clean it up. Paul stomped over to her, standing what felt like levels above her. 

“You just can’t do anything right? Can you?” She shook her head.

“I’m sorry! I’ll clean it up, just please don’t hurt me.” Her voice sounded weak. He kicked her in the stomach, making her wince. She looked up at him, her lip quivering as her skin crawled as she just noticed his face morph into a twisted smirk. 

“It’s okay baby, I just have one idea on how you can make it up to me.” He reached over to the front of the tree, snatching up a blunt knife. 

“Stand up, turn around.” she sniffled as she followed his commands. He took the knife, stabbing it into her back. She cried out in pain as the knife barely made it through her skin, breaking the skin in a way that hurt more than your average stab. She sobbed louder, the blood seeping through her t-shirt. Paul took a photo, honestly happy he got this opportunity. 

“Now try to pull it out, that should be a show.” Paul pulled up a chair, watching Emma fumble with the handle, trying to pull it out. In one choppy motion, she managed to get it out, the wound pouring blood. She used her fingers to plug the wound, as Paul came back with the bandages, throwing them at her. He left the room, leaving her to manage.


	19. Day 9- Paul is a total creep

Emma was struggling, struggling worse than normal. Mainly because of the bandages around her abdomen and her legs, which were now in on and off pain spells. Paul, to really fuck with her would step on her toe or kick the back of her knee and make her crumble. Emma was back at scrubbing the floor. She didn’t get why she had to constantly clean the floor, but she knew why Paul like seeing her clean the floor. He would ask her to sit up and look at him and then make creepy remarks about how good she looked on her knees and how badly he wanted her. Emma would always ignore this and walk away, so he would pull her up against him until she fought him off which would normally result in him beating her up.

This day started just like any other, Emma hobbled down the stairs and Paul walked over to her. He kicked his leg up, striking her at the back of the knee, making her lose her balance and fall to the ground. She landed on the ground, a flash of pain striking through her legs as she sobbed out.

“Oh suck it up!” Paul mocked, tilting her face towards him. Emma looked down, hopelessly.

“Hot.” That word burned its way into her brain, making her skin crawl. He growled, throwing her head back down to the side. Emma stumbled to her feet as paul walked away humming a familiar melody. Something very similar to Jingle Bells. The eerie tune wormed its way into Emma’s brain, as she tried to keep all the memories at bay. Every time he called her name she just heard the haunting call of Zoey and Nora. She didn’t snap out of it until Paul smacked her across the face.

“What are you? Fucking deaf!” He screamed in her face. She tried to contain herself, trying her best not to cry. Emma looked down.

“Look at me when I speak to you whore!” He smacked her again, making her gasp softly.

“I’m sorry, Paul…” He brought out his phone, searching through his music to find some Christmas songs. Immediately blasting Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is you.” He smirked, watching Emma cover her ears, crying out. Paul undid his belt, turning her around and tying her hands together. She sobbed out looking at him. He leaned over her, whispering in her ear.

“I chose this song for a reason… its because all I really want for Christmas is you, tied up naked and-” Emma kicked back, watching him fall to the floor. She slipped her hand out of the belt, taking cover in the room with the tree. He ran in the room before he could slip in, but was too late. He slipped into the room as Emma tried to run the out of the room, but he grabbed her by the waist, throwing her onto the couch. He was livid, stalking over to the tree, grabbing one of the blue, glass balls. He got ready to throw it directly at her, willing to give her a second chance.

“Listen, Emma.” The heat and anger in his voice became clearer with every word he forced out. “I can either make you feel really good or break this ornament over your skull, what do you want?” He got up in her face, his lips mear inches away from hers. She spat in his face, kicking him away. But her kicks didn’t seem to hurt him, he just took the ornament and threw it at her head, the ornament shattering and knocking Emma out within seconds of it hitting her skull. Paul carried her down to the basement, throwing her down the stairs. He wanted Emma, but he wanted it on her terms. Or at least while she was conscious. Paul went back upstairs, throwing more bandages at Emma for her to bandage her bleeding arm, as one of the shards of glass had gotten lodged in her arm.

Paul walked upstairs, put his glasses on, grabbing his book, “How to get away with murder, for that dumb bitch in the basement.” settling down on the couch. The little white gremlin that (sadly for Emma) lived here. He strutted over to Paul, curling up beside him.


	20. Day 10-G.R.E.M.L.I.N

As if on cue, Paul walked downstairs to the basement. He didn’t seem angry or like he was going to make her work today. He had her in his arms. She was thrown over his shoulder, but still, she was in his arms. He placed her feet on the floor, letting her walk. 

“Go grab Fluffy and meet me on the couch, okay?” He smacked her ass, walking away. Emma glared back at him, going to pick up the fluffy gremlin.

Fluffy wasn’t fluffy. He was fat. He was a fat, short over-fed cat that Paul found on the side of a highway right after he kidnapped Emma. Fluffy had just turned one and Emma swears that Fluffy got a bigger birthday celebration than Emma ever did. Paul made the furry goblin a three-tier kitty birthday cake. And by kitty birthday cake the cake was specially made for cats so he wouldn’t get poisoned.

Emma, on the other hand, hated Fluffy just as much as he hated her. She picked up the fat goblin, attempted to carry Fluffy back to the living room. But of course, Fluffy attacked. Emma made it to the living room with more scratches and bit marks than she had prior to this. She dropped Fluffy on Paul’s stomach, making him wince. Paul put the cat, who as of now, was purring, on the couch that he used to be sitting on. He got up, stalking over to Emma, the anger clear in his eyes. Emma backed away until Paul had enough. He grabbed her by the arm, smacking her across the face. 

“Don’t you ever drop Fluffy again, you could have hurt him!” He smacked her again, prying her other hand away from her face. Emma was sure that she could see Fluffy smirking, knowing that he’s done well. Paul pushed her onto the couch, sitting next to Fluffy. Fluffy hopped onto Paul’s lap, making Paul smile. He gently pet Fluffy’s head, making him purr softly. 

“Emma, darling could you go grab the costume I got him?” Emma nodded, wanting to roll her eyes, but petrified of what he would do if he saw her ‘giving him sass’. She walked over to the little plastic bag, grabbing the little elf costume and running back into the living room. Paul moved Fluffy over.

“Why don’t you sit on my lap, sweetheart?” Emma didn’t really have much of a choice as he snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. 

“Why don’t you dress Fluffy. Treat him like the son you’ll never give me.” Emma sighed, grabbing the cat. Upon Emma lifting her hand to touch him, he started hissing and then tried to bite her. Emma quickly retracted her hand. Paul grabbed her face. 

“Get. It. Done.” He moved her face again so she could stare down satan but in the form of a fluffy white cat. She slipped the little uniform over his head, except it didn’t fit much further down than that. Paul moved his hands to her waist as she forced his chubby little paws through the armholes. She forced the hat on his fat little face, glaring back at the miserable cat. Paul wrapped his arms around her torso, kissing her neck, forcing a small noise out of her. He eventually began to suck and nibble on her neck, creating a hickey. He pulled away, looking at his work with great pride. He pushed her off the couch, letting her fall to the floor. He walked away, smacking his thighs, signaling Fluffy to follow him, which the chubby boy did. Emma got up, walking to the bathroom to look at his mark. For some reason it was glowing, specifically glowing blue. Emma, of course, knew what that meant, but that didn’t make her any less petrified. Paul called her upstairs, knowing he wanted to continue the torture because Fluffy was going to be there and probably suffocate Emma in her sleep. She didn’t have any choice so she went upstairs.


	21. Day 11- a lot more painful

Emma woke up strapped to a table. This wasn’t the first time this had happened to her, it was less jarring the second time, but still shocking. Paul stalked into the room, holding something, Emma couldn’t see what, but she could hear it crack against his hand. Paul finally turned the light on, revealing him with some sort of belt. He put it down, leaving it there as a silent reminder of what would happen if she fucked up. Paul smirked sadistically, grabbing some ornaments and placing them beside the table. Emma began to fidget, knowing what he was going to do. He grabbed her leg, glaring down at her.

“I swear, if I see you try to escape one more time, I’m going to stab you until you bleed out.” Emma stopped, looking away.

“Good. At least you know your place.” He took one of the ornaments, stabbing it through the thin, delicate, pale skin, clinging to her hip. She whimpered, too scared to cry.

“Go on, cry. I want to see you in pain.” Her lip quivered as she just looked up at him. He slammed his hand on the table.

“Cry or else I’m gonna make you cry.” She just shook her head, until he stabbed another ornament into her flesh. Repeating the same action until she started sobbing and shaking harder. He smirked, clearly enjoying this.

“You look so sexy when you cry…” he just continued until he ran out of ornaments. He smiled, looking down at Emma, who now was bleeding and whatever little clothes she was wearing were now covered in blood. She was gasping, still sobbing loudly. Paul’s smile twisted into a smirk as he traced his hand down her side, admiring her curves illuminated by the Christmas tree’s subtle glow. He groped her thigh, just feeling up the solid bone with a small amount of flesh clinging onto it. She looked horrified, which just seemed to fuel Paul.  He rubbed her thigh with his thumb, really making a show out of this. He wasn’t going to go any further, he just wanted to fuck with her a bit, make her fear her safety and then call her a varying number of insults as an attempt to torment her even more. She struggled beneath him, so he grabbed the belt, smacking it down on her thigh. Slamming one of the hooks deeper into her skin, making her sob out. He grabbed the tinsel off the tree, shoving it in her mouth.

“Shut up! You deserved that and you know it!” Emma seemed confused. 

“If you didn’t want me to touch you there, you shouldn’t have been dressed like this, you know I can’t control myself around you…” He glared at her. 

“If you don’t want me to touch you, maybe you should cover up just a bit and stop being such a slut!” Emma looked down, Paul pulled her face towards him.

 “Don’t you ever play the victim with me, you know you’re guilty. You know you’re a slut.” She cried harder as paul had had enough. He smacked her across the face, hard enough to leave a mark. She let out another sob as he just kept punching her until her face was bruised, and her nose was bent, broken and bleeding, three things Emma would have never wanted to describe her nose as. He took another picture of her. He put his phone away, untying her from the table. He glared at her, throwing her to the floor, kicking her in the gut. Emma coughed, trying to fight back. Paul had enough of her fighting and grabbed more tinsel, tying her arms together and binding her legs together with another strand of tinsel. He started beating her, getting more and more violent, until her entire body was littered with bruises. He didn’t stop hurling insults at her, calling her every name that brought her back to her childhood.

Within a few minutes, he stopped,  kicking her one final time before leaving Emma; a sobbing, moaning, bruised mess curled up on the floor. 


	22. The last day of angst-mas

Today was the day. The day that Paul had been waiting for. Paul strolled in, humming some sort of religious Christmas carol about how amazing Jesus was. Of course, Emma was having none of it and just glared at him. Paul didn’t stop, now singing full words. Emma covered her ears, trying to ignore him. She hated all of this, she already had had a horrible experience with religion, but music and religion fucked her the hell up. She pushed him away, fed up.

“Someone has balls today. What triggered the snowflake this time, does she not like Jesus?” Paul mocked, getting in her face. Emma backed away, clearly not in the mood to get beat up. Paul lunged slightly forward, laughing when she flinched and walking away. He came back in to find Emma, curled up in a ball and sleeping on the floor. Poor thing really hasn’t slept in ages. Paul, of course, wasn’t having this. He kicked her. 

“Wake up, we have guests coming in an hour.” She woke up because she couldn’t sleep through that. He grabbed some tinsel, yet again, tying her up in the scratchy material. Shockingly, tinsel isn’t as weak as you think it’d be. She tried to scream out, but he gagged her with more blue tinsel. 

Paul always liked seeing her when she was scared. Her pupils got small, showing off her copper-colored eyes, her bottom lip would quiver and she would start to shake. Paul loved seeing her cry, though, he would never let her know that he loved that.

Emma just looked up at him, petrified of what he was going to do. Paul just laughed in her face, pushing her to the floor. He ran his hands up and down her body, making comments about if he can convince someone to buy her, how rich he’d be. He touched most parts of her, nothing too gross, just wildly uncomfortable.

“Emma, do you know how much money you’re body is worth? We can be rich!” His hands trailed up more, groping her breasts. Emma kicked her legs up, hitting him where it hurt. He backed away slightly, getting pissed. He grabbed the wrapping paper, wrapping her up in it. He picked her up shoving her in the, at least five sizes too small, box. Emma started begging, pleading for him to not put the lid on. But he couldn’t hear her. Nor did he care honestly. 

The guests started arriving, Paul would sit on the box, talking about how much he missed Emma, how he wanted to be with Emma. Only she knew the truth. But it’s not like anyone would listen to her anyway…

“Did you hear that some sick frick has her in his basement?! It’s horrible! If we track down the guy, we can find her!” Bill seemed honestly concerned, just wanting to find Emma. Paul didn’t want Bill snooping around and finding something he might regret. 

“Bill. No. I moved on, I should be okay without her. Besides, I’ve already found someone else, someone better. Bianca. She was in Clivesdale today, so she couldn’t come, sadly.” Damn. Paul was good at this… why wasn’t he ever in the drama club.

Emma was able to peek through the box, seeing everyone that she knew. Charlotte, hanging around Ted and, at this point, downing an entire bottle of straight vodka. Emma cringed at that, looking over to Ted, who didn’t seem too affected by anything. He snatched the bottle from Charlotte, drinking whatever was left. Emma was kinda happy to see them together. She was just glad to know that Charlotte moved on from Sam. Emma particularly noticed the cat hair on both of them, clearly from the same cat. She was even more shocked to notice the ring on Charlotte’s left hand, and one on Ted’s. She would have never thought that he would ever marry, but here we are. Emma looked to the other side of the room, noticing Hidgens with his arms happily wrapped around Chad. Both of them sporting expensive looking wedding and engagement rings, proving that Working Boys: A New Musical, was a hit and doing better than Emma anticipate. All it was was a constant reminder that she meant nothing to anyone else, and life just moved on. Eventually, Paul led Bill out of the room, as Alice and Deb walked in.

You have no idea how powerless you feel when your adopted daughters can’t even find you and think you’re dead.  
Emma knocked on the box, scaring Alice slightly. They both glared at the box, not noticing Emma.

“Come on Al, let’s go find Bill.” Deb still didn’t refer to him as dad, it honestly shocked her.

Emma never thought she would ever live to see Deb wearing jewelry, especially an engagement ring, that was clearly picked out by Alice. It was some cute little pink and gree stone with little accents of opal. This just melted Emma’s heart until they left. 

Emma was left there for hours until everyone left. Not surprisingly, Sam and Zoey were the last two to go, Zoey still keeping their creepy little fling going since Emma went gone. Paul made sure they left, walking into the room.

“They believed me. They actually thought you were missing!” He laughed “Even Nora was worried about your sorry ass!” He opened the box, letting her crawl out. She looked beyond upset, hell, beyond heartbroken. “Get over it Emma, you’ll see them again, probably…” Paul sighed, undoing her restraints.  
Emma had never been happier that the holidays were over, not even when she was living with her dad. Paul didn’t bother to come for her, just leaving her under the tree.  
Emma passed out within a few minutes, sleeping under the tree with Fluffy gnawing at her calf. This was one of her worst Christmas yet...


	23. A day too late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best work, a little NSFW proceed with caution.

Paul walked upstairs holding three small packages wrapped neatly in this festive, cutesy wrapping paper. Paul thought he did well on her gifts this year, as he got her a Tickle-Me-Wiggly, a teddy bear that smelt like his cologne for some reason and some bandages mixed in with a dog bed. A gift he didn’t remember buying, but he was sure ‘Paul’ picked it up when he wasn’t conscious. Paul never remembered spilling anything red on the box for the Wiggly doll, in fact, he barely remembered picking it up from Toyzone.

Paul made his way downstairs, only to find a sleeping Emma. He watched her for longer than he cared to admit, eyeing each subtle curve illuminated by the soft white light of their Christmas tree, her face looked so beautiful when she was sleeping. Her lips perfectly plump and kissable with little effort, her cheeks dusted with a subtle pink glow. Paul chose to ignore the bruises and just focused on her hair. The way it framed her face just right, how the ends draped over her hips, making her look more enticing. Her soft little snores made him chuckle as he approached the sleeping girl, dropping the gifts at her scratched up feet and going back upstairs.

He hated admitting what she did to him. She didn’t want to creep her out and he wanted to make sure everything was strictly on her terms and every action he was doing was fully with her consent. He hated the thoughts he had about her, about her plump little lips doing him a favor. As much as he enjoyed the mental picture, he would never get that from her, she wouldn’t be ready to do that with him. Just thinking that thought would add a whole new light source to the house, and soon after, his hands. But that's beside the point. It was the day after the worst Christmas of Emma’s life. He just felt so guilty thinking of her like this instead of doing… something… anything to help her. He plopped down on his bed just trying to get the thought out of his head. Just thinking it better to take a shower.

He did his thing, eventually coming back in to get dressed. As soon as he was done getting dressed he walked downstairs to greet Emma but instead found her lying on the dog bed snuggling up with her Wiggly doll. Lonely was an understatement for Emma’s situation, but yet she seemed happy. Not at all embarrassed that she, a thirty-something-year-old female, was snuggling with a doll meant for toddlers. Paul smiled at her innocently, pretending nothing happened. He took out his phone, snapping a quick picture of her. She looked shockingly happy, and in this brief moment, so did Paul. Paul made his way over, sitting beside her and gently stroking her hair until she woke up. 

When Emma wakes up, she’s a force to be reckoned with. But at this moment she seemed to be caring and genuinely embarrassed. She hid the doll behind her, hoping Paul didn’t see her like that. Paul just let out a small chuckle, playing with her hair. And just like that, Emma felt safe again.

_ “Merry Christmas Emma…” _

“You’re a day late, Paul…”


	24. Its all gone to shit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul finds out Emma's secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!! Just a fair warning there's some mild homophobia and implied r*pe, proceed with caution and be safe!!!!! Love y'all!!!!

A few weeks had passed, ‘Paul’ was back. There was no doubt about that. Emma was just sitting on the floor below him, looking up at him nervously as he waved her phone in her face. His eyes were glowing proving how pissed he was.

“Well. You’re probably wondering why I have your phone. First of all, that’s not your problem, and second of all as your husband, I can do whatever the fuck I want. I just have a few… small questions…” he took a breath in.

“Who’s Alex?” Emma felt suffocated, struggling to take in the air.

“Alex?” Emma’s voice cracked. “I don’t know them? It must just be a random number that I just happened to have in my phone. 

“Oh yeah? If it’s just a random number why did you send him ‘I love you’ multiple times!” She flinched at his tone, trying not to cry.

“First of all she-”

“She? She! You’re dating a woman! What the fuck!” She flinched again.

“Paul it’s really not that big of a deal…”

“Emma. This is a huge deal. This is such a big deal. Oh. My. God.” He buried his face in his hands, pacing around. Emma backed away, petrified that he was going to hurt her. He grabbed her leg, pulling her closer to him as he knelt down to her level.

“You know what? We’re going to do something about this, gay shit. I’ll take care of that thing your with and I’ll let other people handle the gay thing. Okay?” Emma shook her head. 

“Paul you're overreacting.” He grabbed a vase off the table, throwing it at the wall, shattering it instantly. 

“I’M OVERREACTING! YOU HAVEN’T SEEN AN OVERREACTION UNTIL YOU SEE WHAT I’M ABOUT TO DO WITH YOU!” He grabbed his bible, flipping to some page he had the time to bookmark last night, he obviously prepared to tell her this last night, she didn’t get why he didn’t, and she never would. “It says here it’s a sin to like the same gender. Therefore you’re a sinner. I will not have a filthy, disgusting, ugly ass sinner in my house, understand me?!” She flinched, turning away.

“Do you understand me!?” She flinched, nodding. Paul sighed, dropping her leg to the floor, making her cry out in pain. Emma thought he was walking away, I mean, he looked like he was just going to walk past her, but knowing Paul, that’s not the case. He grabbed her by her hair, dragging her outside as he grabbed the handcuffs. He cuffed her to the porch, glaring at her.

“Don’t bother coming inside until you’re done of all this gay shit.” Emma just looked up at him petrified. 

“Wait! Paul! I’m not gay! I swear!”

“Then why do you have a girlfriend?!”

“I’m bi, Paul. There’s a difference.” Paul scoffed grabbing her chin.

“Sure there’s a difference. Sure.” He mocked her, squeezing her face so her cheeks puffed up slightly. She tried to pull her face away, glaring at him. “You look so beautiful like this…” he smiled.

“Too bad you’ve made a huge fucky-wucky.” He walked away, slamming the door behind him. Emma tried to struggle out of the handcuffs, but to no use. She had no other choice but to sit there and wait. Paul came out a few minutes later after posting something somewhere. Notifying anyone who wanted to do something to her that they could, waiting for men to come by and pay him for her services.

Lots of men came by, they did what they wanted, they got everything they wanted and then left Emma more and more broken than she was before. Her shirt was torn down the front and she wasn’t even sure where they put her pants. All she knew was that she could trust no one. She was still sobbing, trying to forget everything that happened to her. Towards the end, Paul had gone inside to count his stack of money and put it away. Suddenly the door swung open, revealing an incredibly concerned Paul. His eyes have gone back to a soft blue as opposed to a harsh, glowing blue that pierced into Emma’s soul. 

_“Emma? What’s going on? What happened to you?”_


	25. The one where Emma's hopes and dreams die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma has a visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOT DESKTOP GOOSE

They were sitting at the table again, Emma dressed in a towel with a blanket draped over her shoulders, and Paul sitting across from her, looking extremely concerned. 

_“Oh, Emma… I’m so sorry…”_

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault…” she was lying, it wasn't fine.

_“I… I think it’s kinda cool that you’re bi… you know, you can lose if you-”_

“Bat for both teams? Yeah, I’ve heard that many times before…” Paul sighed realizing that he can’t make this situation any better. Emma wiped away some of her tears, looking down at the floor. 

 _“Do you want to come upstairs and maybe cuddle if you’re okay with it?”_ She shrugged. _“Okay… just come up upstairs whenever your ready, okay, Emma?”_ She shakily nodded, hugging her arms close to her body. Paul stood up, walking past her, feeling that it’s all his fault, Emma was probably going to hate him forever and it was all his fault. By the time he made it to his room he just sat on the bed, rubbing his face with his hands. He flopped back, just staring at the ceiling. There was a gentle knock planted on the opened door. Paul looked over to the doorframe noticing a small, injured girl leaning against the frame. “Paul?” He nodded. “Can we talk just a bit more?” Paul nodded again, patting the space beside him. She hobbled over, leaning against him. 

 _“Can I put my arm around you?”_ He asked, just wanting her to trust him and them to be back on good terms. She was silent for a bit. God, did he screw it up again?

“Yes.” Paul was ecstatic, just glad she could trust him. He carefully wrapped his arm around her, just trying to help her out. “I just feel powerless, Paul…” he nodded

 _“Well, if it helps you to hear this at all, I think you’re extremely powerful, I think you’re the most badass wom-person I’ve ever met. You’ve made it through so much shit, and yet you’re still here. You’re still here and you’re still kicking, giving the universe an eternal ‘fuck you, I’m still here you bitch!’ God, if I were you I wouldn’t have even lived to see this day.”_ Emma looked at him skeptically.

“Really?”

 _“Yeah… I don’t know how you do it, sweetheart?”_ She cringed at the name. _“Did you not like that?”_ She nodded yet again. _“I’m sorry Em…”_

“It’s fine.” She sighed, leaning against him ever so slightly.

 _“Do you want to go downstairs? Watch a nice, silent movie and eat some ice cream?”_ Paul looked down at Emma.

“I’m not that hungry, but, sure, I guess…” Paul pulled away, holding his hand out to her. They walked down the steps hand and hand until they got to the kitchen. Emma hopped up onto the counter, still wrapped in the blanket she stole from his bed. She watched Paul prepare himself a bowl of ice cream. She always liked the way his eyes looked in this light. The way the silver-blue glistened in the light, and the closer he would get the clearer the specks of electric sparks would become. His eyes would glow sometimes, just a little subconscious thought about her and his eyes would literally light up like a Christmas tree. Like, they would physically glow in the right light. Emma hopped off the counter, sitting on the couch and waiting for him.

 

A few weeks had passed since everything. Paul threw something at Emma, who was sleeping at the bottom of the stairs on a pile of newspapers. 

“Wake up bitch we have someone coming to visit you today.” Emma woke up, looking at the thing that was so rudely thrown at her. There in her hands was a tiny blue shirt that simply said ‘I love my alien husband and musicals.’ in big, bold, dark blue letters. Emma glared up at Paul, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll give you pants when she gets here, put the shirt on.” Paul slammed the door shut, walking away.

There was a sudden knock at the door, Emma, dressed in short, little black pajama shorts and the aforementioned shirt was busy in the kitchen, doing whatever chore Paul had assigned Emma to do. Paul opened the door, to the familiar voice of her girlfriend, Alexandra. Emma looked up from the floor, listening to Paul and Alex’s conversation.

“I got the money, where’s Emma?” Alex sighed, holding the money out to him. He smacked the briefcase out of her arms pulling her closer. 

“Oh, I don’t want the money anymore…” he growled against her neck. Emma just watched in terror, knowing this is how he gets them. Alex, who had taken more than a few self-defense classes, flipped Paul. Wiping her hands on her thighs. 

“I’m a lesbian, jackass.” Emma has never been more attracted to Alex than in this moment. “Now give me my girlfriend or I call the cops and they’ll get her for me.” Paul was nursing his shoulder, glaring up at her. 

“Emma! You have a visitor!” He yelled watching her stumble on from the kitchen. Alex just looked at Emma, taken aback by how miserable Emma looked. 

“Emma!” She giggled, hugging her close. Emma jumped pulling away. Alex looked taken aback. “Emma, what happened?” Emma shook her head, looking down. “Come on, let’s go…” Alexandra turned around, Emma wrapped her arms around Alexandra. 

They almost made it to the door, they were so close. 

Then there was a bang.

Alexandra gasped, gripping her chest.

Emma jumped, knowing what just happened.

Emma helped Alexandra to the bathroom, trying to plug the wound with toilet paper, towels, paper towels, gauze. Everything.

But nothing worked.

Nothing was working and now both of them were crying.

Emma took Alexandra in her arms, whispering to her. Telling her everything. What she meant to her, that she couldn’t live without her. She was the one thing that kept her going. The hope that she’d find her kept her going this long.

Emma held Alexandra close to her, feeling Alexandra sob into her chest as they both uttered their last ‘I love you’s.

Alex went cold, her eyes going blank as she took her last breath in.

Emma was covered in her blood, sobbing loudly, heaving for air. She let out a pained scream before sobbing more.

The love of her life was dead. 

The love of her life was dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

Paul stormed into the bathroom, glaring at her. He was screaming in her face, smacking her, forcing her to look at him. She couldn’t focus, she just couldn’t. She could feel the bile rising in her throat at the thought of being with him any longer. He ripped Alex from her arms, throwing her somewhere in the house. He was going to take care of her and their bills in a second. He continued screaming in her face. Emma turned around, sickened by the way she looked now. Emma felt the fluid rising in her throat as she gagged. The heat rushing to her face as the contents of her stomach spewed from her mouth. She just kept on coughing and choking, just trying to force the image of her lover, dead in her arms out of her mind. The image making her sick. She dry heaved again, nothing more spilling from her mouth other than her strangled, weak sobs.

Emma wasn’t a pretty cryer. She never was. Her face would get red and blotchy, her nose would get stuffy, snot would drip down her chin as she just lost all maintenance of herself in this split second. Paul just glared at her. 

“You done being selfish?”

“You’re a sick bastard, Matthews. You’re a sick fucking bastard, Matthews!” Her volume rose gradually, a crescendo of anger and pain mixing in her voice as she wiped the spit from her chin. “I’ve had enough of how you treat me. I thought it would get better. I thought you’d be better. I thought you’d realize what you’re doing is wrong and stop. And maybe I could forgive you. But this? This is too far. You’re fucking psycho Matthews. I’m done.” Emma tried to leave, forgetting he was blocking the door and she wasn’t the strongest. 

He grabbed her. He grabbed her and flung her over his shoulder, hurling her down the stairs.

Emma has never been in so much pain in one night.


	26. Paul Matthews Gets a Job at Mike Pence's Summer Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See, Alice was a good girl, sensitive, she loved nature and her fiancée but most importantly, she was a fighter. She just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time without the right words to say to a sadistic mother fucker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so 1. Y'all can follow me on my insta by the same name for some pretty cool content, 2. I'm gay 2.5. Happy birthday Shibe!!! and 3. Enjoy the chapter!!

Alice Fletcher was a good girl, she just got caught up with the wrong crowd. Well, that’s how Bill would describe her relationships. Alice’s fiancée Deborah was a ‘hardcore stoner’ as Alice puts it. Also implying most of Deb’s friends were stoners as well. Alice didn’t hang around Deb’s friends much. They said they made her uncomfortable, but yet, even so, Alice wanted to fit in. She craved fitting back into a clique. 

So it was no surprise this specific day, Alice was hanging around them in some abandoned house on the outskirts of town.

The house smelt like weed, sex, rock, and roll. Somehow, all of it made Alice just a little on edge. Deb could tell by her gripping her hand like this was going to be how Alice dies or like she had an actual fear of getting caught. 

Alice was an adult now, it’s time she takes some risks. What’s the worst that could happen?

Sofia and Danny haven’t changed since high school. Not one single bit. All of them were sat in the corner with a few other people, watching videos by the time the girls entered. The horrible screaming filled Alice’s ears, striking fear into her heart. Deb pushed her forward, not sending any fear from Alice. 

“Hey Al, you wanna join us?” Sofia smirked, sitting beside her. Her breath smelling of cigarettes and weed, making Alice cringe. “You gotta pay the price.” She turned the video around. Alice watched for a second, trying to make out the blurry figures, but once the camera focused in on the scene in front of them.

She couldn’t stand to watch.

Alice froze, nearly going catatonic. Horrified as she watched her very own uncle, the first man she came out to, the guy who invited them to that fucking Christmas party, beat up her adopted mom. 

Emma had told them everything about Paul and to stay as far away from him as they could. Alice just watched in shock, watching him grab the knife. Staring as he sliced open the back of Emma’s ankles, the screaming making Alice sob out. That’s where she had gone. She didn’t abandon them just Alice's mom. God, how Alice cried when Emma never came home from work. Alice couldn’t take it, but Sofia didn’t push it away. Alice couldn’t stand, her legs just giving out as she sobbed, and sobbed. Sofia hurled insults at her, just adding to the pain. Deb walked over, knowing something was wrong. Deb knelt down to Alice’s level, helping her stand up. 

“Come on Allie, let’s go, these guys are jerks…” Deb walked her out of the house, wrapping her jacket around the smaller girl as an added comfort. Alice just kept on crying and didn’t stop until her breathing was sporadic and her face was bright red. Her head was pounding, but that’s nothing a bit of ibuprofen couldn’t fix. Deb helped her into the car, driving them home. She knew better than to ask what got Alice rilled up, so she just stayed quiet. She stayed quiet until they got home where she could make Alice feel just a bit better. 

It was a few hours later, they had exhausted their usual Disney collection and Alice was still upset.

“Just talk to me, Al! What’s wrong?” Alice sighed, looking up from the ground.

“Debbie, please, I can’t talk about it…”

“Allie-cat…” she took Alice’s hands into hers. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what Sophie showed you…”

“I’m going to Paul’s. I need to make sure he won’t do it again.” She stood up, breaking free from her blanket prison.

“Al? What? What did he do?”

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning, I promise sweetheart.” She pecked Deb’s cheek and she was off.

The ride to Paul’s house was stressful. It stressed her out to think of what he could be doing right now, it stressed her out to think of what could happen to her. But she couldn’t let Emma just suffer. That was her mom. And she wasn’t going to sit idly by and let all this shit happen.

 

Paul didn’t expect a visitor. Emma didn’t expect one either. And yet, here Alice was, clad only in a pair of pajamas that Paul had gotten her for Christmas, holding something that Deb had given them for comfort. Paul didn’t mind having Alice over, but Alice didn’t seem right, at least not to Paul.

“I know what you’re doing to Emma. I know and I’m here to help her.” Paul pulled Alice into the house, dead silent.

“How? How did you find out?!”

“A friend.” She smiled smugly, pulling out her phone to call 911. Paul grabbed her phone, smashing it to the floor, wiping the smirk off Alice’s face. She couldn’t roam free knowing what she knows, that could ruin his life! He grabbed her forearm, watching as she struggled to break free his grasp. Which she couldn’t. He dragged her down to the basement, with a fury in his eyes Alice had never seen. “Uncle Paul?” She called meekly, still trying to pull away. All her courage quickly stripped away from her as she spotted Emma sleeping on the floor, in a puddle of her own blood. Paul smirked at her, shoving her down the remaining steps, waking up Emma. 

It took a second for Emma to realize what she was looking at. At first, she thought she lost it, but she assured herself that if this wasn’t Alice, she wouldn’t still be crying on the floor.

See, Alice was a good girl, sensitive, she loved nature and her fiancée but most importantly, she was a fighter. She just got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time without the right words to say to a sadistic mother fucker.

“Alice?” Emma spoke softly. She looked up at Emma, in shock at first but soon after she ran over to her. 

“Mom! You’re alive? I thought he killed you based on that video-”

“What video?” Emma interrupted her immediately. “Alice, how did you find that?”

“A dare…” Alice sat beside her, sighing. Emma gently wrapped her arms around Alice. “I know a way out, but it’ll only work for you, you’ll be able to save yourself and get home to Deb and I’ll stay here. I can’t leave, not after what he did last time…” Emma sighed. “Just don’t tell him you like a girl, don’t talk about Deb, hide your rings-” Alice was in a slight amount of shock. 

“But why? He was so accepting of Debs and I…” 

“Allie, it’s not Paul…” just then, the basement door swung open.

“Who’s not Paul? What are you talking about, whore?” He grabbed Bonnie, holding it to her throat. Emma looked at Alice mouthing ‘get out’ to her, praying she would escape and live a better life then Emma was.

So, Alice was running. She was running at full speed through the house. 

She made it to the door, which still covered in Alex’s blood as a reminder to Emma of what happens when you fuck something up greatly. Alice was frantic. Desperately trying to unlock the door with her bobby pin. She gave up once she noticed Paul stalking nearer with his world-famous steel bats dragging on the floor behind him. Making a disturbing scratching noise. Alice screamed, slamming her fists on the door, hoping someone would listen, but of course they wouldn’t.

Paul walked closer, smacking the bat against his hand.

Alice was now screaming harder, watching the cars drive by, but no one stopping to help.

Paul grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks upward. He shook her face gently as he said her nickname a couple of times, the condescending tone tainting his voice. 

“Oh, Allie, Emma didn’t tell you there’s no one for miles, did she?” Paul smirked sadistic, not bothering to wait for an answer as he smacked her over the head with the baseball bat.


End file.
